Damsel in Distress

Cabin fever is a real thing.


After enduring one of the worst winters New York has ever had, it was time to go back home for the holidays. And hopefully warmer weather.

In February I received a call. It was my agency in New York with my next modeling assignment. I was going to be living in Mexico City for the next three months. Oh no. I need to brush up on my Spanish. Or maybe I'll just say "no hablo español."

The nerves were real.

I wasn't getting much reassurance from my family. Most of them were telling me to be careful and how worried they were about me going to Mexico City.

The first two weeks were rough. I didn't leave my apartment unless someone from my new agency came to get me. The wifi didn't work. This meant no contact with anyone back home. The shows on t.v. were all in Spanish. The one time I did leave the apartment by myself, a car full of men whistled and yelled things at me that I couldn't understand.

I stuck out like a sore thumb. I don't know what gave me away more, the pale white skin or the blonde hair.

However, my hand motioning and facial expression skills did improve.

This made my first photo shoot interesting to say the least. The photographer would push and pull me around, putting me in different spots, making motions of what poses he wanted me to do.

Then I met a guy.

He was tall, dark, and a little hairy.

His name was King Kong and he was my hero. I was just a damsel in distress living in Mexico City.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It's the epitome of all Christmases.

Christmas in New York City.

 Here are a few things you must do:

• Rockefeller Center - The biggest Christmas tree I've ever seen. Last year it was almost 95 feet tall! There is also an ice skating rink - fun for all ages.
• The Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall - The Rockettes Christmas Spectacular is a show full of elite dancers and Christmas spirit. A classic and a must-see.
• Serendipity 3 - Someone walked in here and threw up Christmas all over the walls, in a good way of course. They have mouth watering sundaes as big as your head (see image below). And frozen hot chocolate. You'll definitely need two spoons.

Thanksgiving in New York

Thanksgivings were spent at my Grandma Alice's cozy, little, red brick house in Oklahoma. She lived in a small town where we would go to Walmart or Sonic "for fun". The town was probably booming back in the old days and still has that old-timey, antique-looking feel to it.

The whole family (parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins) would snuggle up into her house on Thanksgiving. Every year we would wake up and watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Everyone would bring different food dishes and we would eat for days. Literally. For days.

But this time was different.

There would be no going to Grandma Alice's house for Thanksgiving. I wasn't able to come home from New York so my parents decided to come to me. However, one tradition still remained.

On Thanksgiving morning we woke up and watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. But this time we didn't watch it on T.V. At 5 am it was time to rise and shine. My mom, dad, roommate and I began the trek to Midtown in Manhattan.

It was definitely below freezing that morning. I'm talking can't feel your face, can't feel your toes, kind of cold.

Oh and the heater just happened to stop working in our apartment. Just tell yourself it's not cold and you'll be warm right? Wrong.

For me the cold is painful. Literally painful because I have a circulation disorder called Raynaud's. Basically when I'm cold (or nervous) I lose circulation to my fingers and toes and they turn unnaturally white, blue, or purple.

But if you're in New York and have the opportunity to go watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade you must. You have to go at least once to say you've been.

The balloons and floats are massive in real life. It probably takes at least a hundred people to "walk" the balloons through the parade. Imagine how much of a struggle that would be on a windy day!

So we found a spot on the sidewalk in front of a little doughnut and coffee shop.


*tip* If it's below freezing outside find a place to watch in front of a coffee shop or restaurant where you can go inside and warm up if you need to.

Also bring lawn chairs so you don't have to stand the whole time. I wish we would have known this before. 

The Model Apocalypse

New York Fashion Week. Some love it. Some hate it. Some don't even know what it is. However, only a few know what actually goes on behind the scenes. Because all you see are the glamorous runways, crazy fashion statements and stone-faced models.

How to spot a model in New York City:

Skinny. "No make-up". Dressed in all black and towering over everyone.

In the weeks leading up to fashion week you will see hundreds of these women all over the city. Jumping into taxis. Running to catch the metro. Some of them will be wearing heels. Some of them will be smart enough not to.

There are two fashion weeks in New York a year, one in February and one in September.

My first fashion week was in September of 2013. I moved to New York at the beginning of August because this is when all the castings begin.

If you've never been to New York in the summer, lemme tell ya it is scorching hot. I'm talking about sweat dripping down your back hot. And trees are scarce. Which means no shade. Just metal skyscrapers. Probably just increasing the heat from the sun like a frying pan.

Castings or "cattle calls" are visual interviews where the casting director can see what each model really looks like. And for these castings models are asked to dress as simple as possible, most of the time in a black outfit that shows off your legs, body, etc. Models are also expected to wear high heels to show how they strut their stuff on a runway.

This was always the most nerve-racking part for me. I was terrified that the casting director(s) wouldn't like me, wouldn't think I was skinny enough or pretty enough, wouldn't like my walk.

You definitely get caught up in the madness of it all. Seeing hundreds of other models at each casting call, everyone wanting the job. It's hard not to fall into the trap of criticizing or comparing yourself to others.

There's always going to be someone prettier than you. Skinnier than you. Taller than you. The only thing you can prevent from happening is someone working harder than you.

Have you ever wanted something so bad? With everything in you? It's difficult to explain the feeling if you've never felt this way. You just become overwhelmed with emotion. But whenever you don't get this thing, whatever you were wanting, it crushes you. And then you want to know why. Why didn't I get it? Am I not good enough?

This is how I felt when I didn't book every single casting that I went to with hundreds of other models. I wanted to be the best. I wanted to be working. I wanted those jobs.

I was hurt. My heart hurt.

But I don't believe your value is measured by how many jobs you do, it is measured by how well you do them. So I picked myself up and kept trying. And I'm so glad I did because I booked several shows that fashion week season.

An Eye-opening Experience

At 19 I was still young and vulnerable.

This was also the first time I would be living away from home. Exciting yet terrifying.

My roommate introduced me to her friends which at first I was grateful for, but later felt some backlash.

Promoters.

Pretty much all clubs have them. A club promoter (usually a guy) -  a female club promoter would be surprising yet empowering, so if you're out there - you go girl! Anyways, a club promoter is a guy who brings a group of "attractive" girls to the club. The club pays the promoter and also gives him a table, bottles of alcohol, and table service.

On some nights we would go to fancy restaurants for a free dinner before adventuring out to the club. And who doesn't love free food, amirite? And I'm not talking about some skimpy green leaves because we were models. And "models don't eat".

My favorite place for dinner was an Italian restaurant. I was awe-struck. The music was blaring, the floor was shaking, and the people were dancing on tables! Everyone had drinks in their hands. Wait, is this a restaurant or a club?

The waiters brought out salads, pizzas, pastas, cake, fruit, red wine, white wine, even coffee to stay awake at the club since we were going to be there till 2 am. 3 am. Maybe even 4 am. But the best part of the whole experience were the fried oreos. 

Definitely not a part of my model diet.

The Big Move to the Big Apple

One of my biggest dreams when I was little was to be a famous super model. This is still my dream of course, just a little more realistic now. Less famous. More successful.

When I was 19 years old I signed with a modeling agency in New York.

Wow. I had never even been to New York! I was excited to say the least.

It was time...

I packed up as much of my stuff as I could into two suitcases, not really knowing what I would need, and my mom and I began our journey from Tulsa, Oklahoma to New York, New York.

Filled with nerves, butterflies and a little (lot of) stress we stepped out of the airport into the streets of New York City.

*first thoughts*

Stinky. Dirty. Hot.

Ahh the wonderful New York taxis. You can't miss the bright (ugly) yellow things.

We took a taxi to my new "home" on the upper west side of Manhattan near the George Washington Bridge. I was going to be sharing an apartment with two other models, a boy and a girl.

We called up to the 3rd floor, a girl answered and said she would be down to help us.

Oh no. You have got to be kidding me. There was no elevator?!?

The three of us had to carry all of our suitcases and bags up three flights of tiny, creaky, wooden stairs. It was a workout to say the least.

Apartments in New York are like closets in Oklahoma. Or anywhere else really.

After finally getting all moved in it was time to explore. I downloaded a map on my phone (gotta love technology), and my mom and I set out on our adventure.

Ahh the subways. Another wonderful part of the city. There's trash EVERYWHERE, rats, and the smell of b.o. and urine fills the air. Just don't breathe.

We took the train to Times Square where hundreds of people filled the brightly lit streets. Times Square is a combination of giant ads, huge stores, several restaurants and tourists galore.

Talk about a huge culture shock. But I was here. Just a girl from Oklahoma now living in the Big Apple.

What's a Wandering Sol?

The word "sol" means sun in Spanish.  

I've always been kind of lost, never really knowing what I wanted to do with my life but at the same time wanting to do it all. Hence the wandering part. 

So let's go back the beginning....

After graduating high school, I went to a community college for a year and then signed with a modeling agency in New York. Random. Yes, but I have been modeling since I was 12 years old and it is one of my passions.

I'll expand on all of this later but here's a short summary to start:

I lived in New York for about a year, returned home for the holidays and signed with a modeling agency in Mexico City.

You think I would be fluent in Spanish by now since I have been taking Spanish classes since 6th grade.... *sigh*
 
I lived in Mexico City for about 4 months, made some life-long friends, ate too many tacos and then returned to New York.
While I was back in New York I got to be apart of the Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week for my third season.

Oh by the way this whole time I was still taking classes online and working towards my Associate's degree. Physical beauty doesn't last forever. And college is just what you're supposed to do, right?

After I pretty much spent all of my money in New York, I figured it was time to head back home to Oklahoma.  

That summer I graduated with my Associate's degree. So now what? 

Two weeks before the fall semester started I decided to go to the University of Central Oklahoma. ROLL CHO'S.

So that's how we end up here. On this blog. Telling you all about my life