Post by Harlow Donovan on Mar 3, 2009 1:30:58 GMT -5
Harlow stood in the bathroom of her luxurious apartment, staring into the mirror. How do you wear your hair to the beach? Up? No..down. Definitely down. She pulled her hair tie out and let her dark brown locks fall around her shoulders. It was really about time that she went blonde again. It might help her rise up to those "model standards" since all of the other girls seemed to have bleach blonde hair. She ran one of her hands through her hair, and messed with it, attempting to give it some volume. Although it wasn't likely, she had the feeling she'd see someone that she knew at the beach. It seemed like every time she went somewhere looking horrible, she saw at least five people she knew. It was like a curse.
She slipped out of bathroom and entered the gigantic bedroom that she shared with one of the other competing models. She made her way across the room over to her big black wardrobe. She debated on going for skimpy beach number, or some laid back surfer look. She ended up in a pair of light blue skinny jeans and an old vintage t-shirt over her favorite zebra print bikini. She completed her look with a pair of black flip flops, and came to the conclusion that she'd gone out looking worse before. She grabbed her purse and placed her new Versace sunglasses on her head before leaving her the apartment.
As she sat in the back of the cab on her way to the beach, she stared out of her window, finding it hard to believe that she was all the way in New York modeling. She would've never thought that she'd be so successful. Moving from Los Angeles to New York was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. By far. She noticed the young cab driver wink at her in the rear view mirror. She gave him a half smile and then stared down at her hands, not fond of the unfamiliar attention. She was thankful once she had arrived to her destination, and threw a twenty dollar bill into the passengers seat. "Erm. Thanks." She said as she hurried to get out.
She immediately got a whiff of salt water, and felt at home. She missed spending the day with her sisters at the beach back in LA. She made her way over to the small bar located right on the beach. It was the cutest thing ever. Once she arrived she became cautious, feeling the stares of a group of guys seated at a back table. She hurried to the front of the small restaurant and sat down in one of the wooden, tiki inspired, bar stools. She was completely unsure of what to order, so she studied the menu of drinks attempting to make a decision. She was waiting for some kind of recommendation.
She slipped out of bathroom and entered the gigantic bedroom that she shared with one of the other competing models. She made her way across the room over to her big black wardrobe. She debated on going for skimpy beach number, or some laid back surfer look. She ended up in a pair of light blue skinny jeans and an old vintage t-shirt over her favorite zebra print bikini. She completed her look with a pair of black flip flops, and came to the conclusion that she'd gone out looking worse before. She grabbed her purse and placed her new Versace sunglasses on her head before leaving her the apartment.
As she sat in the back of the cab on her way to the beach, she stared out of her window, finding it hard to believe that she was all the way in New York modeling. She would've never thought that she'd be so successful. Moving from Los Angeles to New York was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. By far. She noticed the young cab driver wink at her in the rear view mirror. She gave him a half smile and then stared down at her hands, not fond of the unfamiliar attention. She was thankful once she had arrived to her destination, and threw a twenty dollar bill into the passengers seat. "Erm. Thanks." She said as she hurried to get out.
She immediately got a whiff of salt water, and felt at home. She missed spending the day with her sisters at the beach back in LA. She made her way over to the small bar located right on the beach. It was the cutest thing ever. Once she arrived she became cautious, feeling the stares of a group of guys seated at a back table. She hurried to the front of the small restaurant and sat down in one of the wooden, tiki inspired, bar stools. She was completely unsure of what to order, so she studied the menu of drinks attempting to make a decision. She was waiting for some kind of recommendation.
