Fashion + Photography + Me = ? (and all sorts of other things)

This is probably going to be an equation whose answer will always elude me:
Fashion + Photography + Me = ?

First off, I don't even know how I've decided to set my mind on becoming a fashion photographer above all else (that includes being a journalist). Well, sure, my breath was first taken away by a Chloé editorial I saw in an issue of NYLON in '08, but I don't think that that alone made me convert to a fashion enthusiast (I don't think I truly deserve the title of 'fashionista' yet). So what gives?

I can't say this for sure, but I think the one reason I'm so, um, intoxicated by fashion is because of its nature: it seemingly always revolves around something I find irresistible--beauty. I consider myself an aesthete, which according to Dictionary.com means "a person who has or professes to have refined sensitivity toward the beauties of art or nature." I really love nature (hence my passion for photographing the skies) and art. Fashion is an art. Writing is an art. Drawing is an art. Music is an art.

I'm sure that there are few people that love beauty as much as I do. I'm not sure you would understand, and I could never possibly be able to contain my love for beauty and beautiful things in just words alone, but it's like... I love everything that is beautiful, whether it be people, places, places, things.

I pass random people in the streets, in the malls, in school, and a lot of times I think to myself, "gosh, they look amazing. I wonder if they'd be creeped if I asked to take a portrait of them?" Sadly, you see, people have this sort of paranoia mechanism around strangers. "I don't know you, you don't know me, so what the hell are you doing talking to me?" is basically the response I'm expecting to get if I try to approach someone. I have never tried to approach a stranger (well, okay, once, and that was a model contestant after the fashion show, and duh, she said yes) to ask for their photograph, and I doubt that I will anytime soon. I mean, this is Virginia we're talking about. Suburbia, not New York City.

I wish I lived in New York City.

Here, when you make a fashion statement, people think you're crazy (in a bad way). In New York City, nobody cares nearly as much since they see it all the time!

Back to the topic. Okay, yes, if I were the same me from a year ago, and I met the me of today who would ask for my photograph, I'd probably be like, "wtf, no." But not today. I mean, think of the Sartorialist! Think of Garance Doré! Think of street photographers! They take strangers' pictures, and those people seem totally cool with it!*

I know, I know, I'm being hypocritical. I would be cautious with strangers, too, especially those that asked to take my picture. But, speaking from the perspective of a photographer/aesthete, I mean, COME ON, PEOPLE! What on earth do you think I'll do with your photos? Do I look like a psychopath serial killer that takes pictures of potential victims and stalks then kills them? NO! (I mean, I don't think so at least. Well, the point is, I look a lot saner than some people).

But that's the perspective of an aesthete and photograph, two perspectives that aren't exactly that widely considered in everyday society--especially not in Suburbia Virginia.

So, wait, okay, there are a lot of things I want to say about me and fashion and [fashion] photography. It's something I'm honestly considering as a career, something I bet I would love to do, to live with. I hope that I'm not mistaken, that it's not just some lucrative, highly-sought after occupation to me, because right now, it doesn't feel that way. It feels thrilling, and so much more than that. It feels like it could bring the life out in me, to make me alive.

I've just gone on several tangents, all somehow related to fashion/photography/and certainly myself.

Congratulations if you've made it this far in reading. You've just had the super rare opportunity to get a glimpse of truth behind the Miranda you probably hardly knew (because, if you think you know me, you're probably wrong in for a big surprise).


FIN.


P.S. This is one of the longest things I've ever written online before.

By the way, if you finished or least partly read this, let me know. I'll have to give you my thanks. Also, if you've got any comments/concerns/etc., feel free to let me know, too :)



*Disclaimer: This image was by the Sartorialist.