Sometimes I pretend I’m a fashion blogger. I walk down the street, set up my tripod, and start taking pictures. Then as cars/runners/dog walkers/neighbors go by, I become horrifically embarrassed and spend the entire time brainstorming what I’ll tell them if they ask me what the hell I’m doing.
Stream of consciousness: oh my god is that car slowing down? why? why are they slowing down? crap! there’s the neighbor who is a REAL photographer. what’s my back story? last time I told her it was for photography class. she doesn’t know it ended. i’m working on portraits. yes, that’s it. and aperture. that’s less embarrassing than telling her i have a blog. oooh cute runner man. look casual. oh my god i look like a self-absorbed crazy. i’m on the corner taking pictures of myself. i can’t. escape! must. go. inside. now.
Top: F21, Pants: F21 via Goodwill, Shoes: Payless, Bracelets: gifts, Watch: Anne Klein, gift