In 2014, when I was a High School senior and wispy seventeen year old, I worked for a brand called Vince: it was my third modeling job and my first overnight in the Ford model apartments in New York City. It was actually a rather turbulent two days: I was alone and so agonizingly shy that the attention funneled at me on set brought me, each morning and always surreptitiously, to tears. This fall, three and a half years later, I returned to Vince for a few days to shoot their pre-fall web content. This time the shoot was in Bushwick. This time I spent the nights with a former classmate, from that very same high school, who now has a midtown apartment, and this time I knew the ropes of my profession and felt no more out of place on set than anyone lending their body to an assembled variety of strangers necessarily feels. However, not all of the people on set this time were strangers: both of the in-house photographers had shot me when I was that wispy new face, when we were in a Manhattan office and I was acutely disoriented. So I very much enjoyed the days I spent at Vince for this job, and the friends I made there and the collection we shot, a few pieces of which I already have my eye on. I very much enjoyed completing a full circle of sorts, in a superficial industry so un-conducive to symmetry and resolution of a personal nature. I enjoyed, ultimately, the linking of past with present, and the evidence, logical but somehow surprising still, that I grew up in the interim.
Top Row: 2014 Vince. Bottom Row: 2017 Vince.