Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Day XXXVII: Runway

Letting them have it has always been in my blood. I just don't think I realized it until well into college.

In high school, I wasn't a quiet kid by any means, but I certainly had my reservations. The only gay kid--which I've since learned is probably very unlikely--in a small town is sure to have his troubles. But I never officially came out while still in school. I waited. I waited because I was terrified of what it meant for me and my friends and my family. I waited because I was already a little odd and having the gay label wasn't going to help. I waited because I wasn't nearly as fabulous then as I am now.

I mean, look at me:

Hot. Mess.

What a difference time and a hefty dose of self-discovery can do, huh?

Ah, that's better.

In the process of finding myself, I also found Miss Jay, a former (and future!) judge of America's Next Top Model. Miss Jay was everything to me. He was smart and funny an one hell of a walker. I've never been more impressed with a strut than with his. It's not that there's anything particularly powerful about the way he moves, it's the grace and effortlessness of it all. 

But he helped me discover my love for the runway. The stomping, the spinning, the eyes, the shoulders, the pose, the poise, the everything. And because of his teachings, wit, and criticisms, there's not a day that goes by that I don't think: "I could walk on that."

Today's object: a shady bridge outside of Sneaky Pete's on my way to the post office.

Hey, I could walk on that.

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