When up-and-coming model Isabelle meets talented but jaded photographer Milo, sparks fly despite their age difference. Their romance becomes the talk of the New York City fashion scene, fueling rumors and speculation about their scandalous affair. A...
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She looked at the pile of clothes that she was to start raking through, putting each item on as if she were a mannequin - which she was - she thought to herself. A mannequin, but with a soul.
Can a mannequin have a soul? She wondered if she had one, because if she did it was such a long time since she could feel it.
Its not that she purposefully made herself numb, but she did make herself numb as a sort of coping mechanism. The repression of her feeling, a natural element following a string of unsuccessful half relationships.
Her problem was being both simultaneously a hopeless romantic and a cynical realist. She wasn't sure how she could hold those two ideals in tandem, but she did. A part of her believed in love, that kind that cracks open your heart and h ones your world and everyone involved in this magical, all encompassing sweeping feeling. Another part of her, though, had a hard time manifesting this in reality. And now she wasn't trustful of hers or others feelings. There were times when the only thing she could afford was to trust blindly in at least something - usually reserved for matters of the heart. But as it turned out, life over and over again showed her that those metaphorical ATVS - vehicles of love- always crashed at the end, no matter how gently or roughly into a tree or a sharp turn off abridge that she never, ever saw coming.
Her momentary revelry was interrupted when she heard him switch the playlist in the other room, and after a moment of silence, Girl from Ipanema starts filling the room with its Bossa nova sounds.
Everything about her life became so mechanical, that she died't eve notice when she was dressed in La Perla lingerie, holding the most exquisite bridal gown she ever saw in her hands, she paused and took in her image in the mirror. She has lost the sense of what people must first feel or think when they see her, she being so sed to her own self, but there was something all at once melancholy and beautiful about this look, especially in her current state of affairs,. Which is to say, m broken and empt and mostly uneventful.
She quietly pushed the thoughts away form her mind, telling herself to focus on the job, and slid own the dress. Trying to not pay too much attention to herself. For sometimes, the vanity of her Jon - of her life- made her want to throw up and she dint even know why. Except that it must have been natural to be so self focused o n the self, in order to make a living.
She took a deep breath and turned the door handle as evenly as she could, stepping out of the bathroom and into the studio space.
She takes a moment to take in the certain ambience that's hard to recreate, except for how it is now in this beautiful loft and the all the space that's not empty at all, but instead is filed by light and sound and the energy between the two.
If Milo felt anything by her being dressed up in an overpriced wedding gown, he didn't show it. Keeping his working poker face on, he refilled the film in his camera, and nodded hushed towards the photo paper, as if to motion for her to go stand there.
They didn't need to say much. There was a lot of understanding in their unspoken truth. They were both here to get the shot. But Isabelle couldn't help feeling that maybe there was something more.
After some time, Isabelle counted a few songs, Milo put down the camera and looked at her for a few seconds.
"Can we try something?" He asked plainly.
Isabelle swallowed hard, "what?" She asked him, not wanting to sound rude.
"A lingerie shot?" Milo said but she didn't feel any malice n his voice.
It was usual, a regular thing. You show up to a casting call and they get you to strip down to your thong and converse just to tel you you don't have the look.
But here, she felt that she not only had the lot, but that she could prove to him that she had it. That she was right for this.
For him.
She nodded nonchalantly, and started to take the gown off of herself.
"Wait," he smiled a boyish smile, "here," he gave her a look boo sheet of the different lingerie looks. Realizing this was always part of the shoot and not just his desire, she felt a little bit disappointed first at him and then at herself.
"Thanks," she smiled back, and then trying to hide her embarrassment went back into the bathroom.
She found the first 'look' on the hanger and put it on. It was a body corset, underwear and a veil but it somehow looked even better on her that the full gown.
She cleared her throat, as if t warn him she was coming out and she turned the doorknob stepping out into the bright light.
