A Lady in London

I graduated from college five years ago this week. It’s hard to believe. I can’t believe how quickly the time has passed. Thankfully, I had another chance to experience college, see my friends, and walk the grounds of my alma mater this weekend.

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My picture is up in Karen Millen stores all over London.  The photo from the shoot I did with Models 1 in February has finally made its debut in stores, on leaflets, in newspapers, and of course at Ascot racecourse.

When I got back from San Francisco last month, I stopped by a Karen Millen store with my boyfriend to see if the campaign had started.  It had.  We walked into the Regent Street shop and there in front of us on the table was a poster with my photo and details about the contest be the next Face of Ascot.

My boyfriend took a picture with his Blackberry as I looked around for others.  They were everywhere; tables, racks, stands, and check out counters had my face all over them.  I walked around thinking how strange it was to see pictures of myself in a high street retailer.  Having always wondered how models feel when they see themselves in public places, it was a bit surreal to experience it first hand.

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My year as the Face of Ascot is quickly approaching its end. Last Saturday I made one final trip out to the racecourse before Royal Ascot in June.

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I haven’t traveled to Turkey since I was 14.  My eighth grade class took a cruise through Greece and stopped in Kusadasi for a day.  We ran around Ephesus, tried our bargaining skills at a bazaar, and it goes without saying that we got a factory tour at a rug shop that belonged to our guide’s “cousin”.

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With Royal Ascot just a month and a half away, I headed to the racecourse last Saturday for one final photo shoot. My flight from San Francisco arrived at Heathrow at 6:30am that day.  After a quick shower in the arrivals lounge, I was driven to Ascot racecourse for a 10am shoot. Maybe that’s what it’s like to be a jet setting international model.  Harder than it looks.

Once at Ascot, I settled in to the Winning Connections Room, where the group that was doing the shoot was based for the day. As the fashion editor from the Sunday Express Magazine laid out all the clothes, the make-up artist arranged her mountains of make-up, and the photographer took out his equipment, it was strange to see the room in which I had last sipped champagne with the likes of Bernie Ecclestone transformed into a studio for a photo shoot.

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