When I was fourteen, JC Penney's held modeling classes in their corporate offices for young girls like me. I desperately wanted to be a model. The fame, the fortune, the clothes, being known for your beauty, traveling the world, it's many girls dreams. So I signed up right away. There I sat, a short, very awkward, undeveloped tween with extremely kinky curly hair (my nickname at school was Don King) and to top it off a rather large Italian nose. I didn't know how to walk, dress, style my hair or put on makeup, but I figured this is what the class was for; to teach me how to become perfect like a supermodel and then I would land a modeling contract. Obviously that never happened. On the contrary, I ended up quitting after the second or third class because I was so embarrassed by the fact that the instructor chose to use me as the example for all lessons on "What not to..." Thankfully I grew out of that awkw...
Up front and honest confessions of this gal's sinful heart