Tag Archives: readers choice

Readers Choice: V

V wrote: “I wanna hear from kage’s husb!! guest post from j!!!!”

It sounds like there is one person out there who actually wants to hear from me so I am giving the people what my one person wants.  I asked Kristy what I should blog about and she gave me the following wonderful ideas:

Blog about what it is like living with Kristy
Blog about why I decided to marry Kristy
Blog about what I would say for Kristy’s eulogy

I then proceeded to ask Kristy why she wanted me to post a blog at all?  It sounded as if she just wanted me to write about her.  I thought to myself…that can’t be what the people my one person wants!  If this is the one time I will be communicating to the outside world while sitting in my pajamas in a dimly lit basement, eating chips and watching Spike TV, I am going to write about something…Nevermind.

I don’t actually have a basement and I don’t watch much tv (unless it is sports or Phineas and Ferb).  I despise chips but I am sitting in my pajamas.  I am extremely sore with rashes on various parts of my body.  My face is sunburned and my 4 time surgically repaired knee throbs.  But it is all worth it.

I finished the Hamptons Marathon (not my first and not my last) Saturday in under 4 hours (my goal).  The first 22 miles were brilliant.  Averaged about an 8:20 pace.  Met some nice people along the way…Stephanie, for one, who was running her 18th marathon.  Her husband watched the kids so she could go jogging.  The jogging distances became longer and the husband did not seem to mind until she was running marathons…I have never met a runner who isn’t genuinely nice.

If you meet a mean person while jogging, just keep in mind they probably aren’t runners.  They probably would not be doing it for the sheer enjoyment of pushing themselves to extremes while enjoying their own thoughts and questioning what, why, and where about life.  This is possible…pushing our bodies and enjoying life at the same time.  Leaving the iPods at home.  Being one with our thoughts and our ideas while moving one leg in front of the other.  Running through Queens, Brooklyn, Times Square, and Central Park at 5:30 in the morning when everyone is asleep in the City that Never Sleeps.  That is what I enjoy about running.

The enjoyment of my marathon ended at mile 22 (the wall) like so many others before me.  I have heard that it is at mile 22 when your body is depleted of electrolytes, calories, and everything else it needs to sustain itself.  Our bodies seem to always have something extra in the tank but it is at that moment when our mind is telling us to shut it down.  Stephanie told me at mile 16 that our warm up was over.  My body was telling me at mile 22 that my marathon was over.  That is when runners learn how mentally fit they are.  Needless-to-say, my mind was a bit weak yet strong enough to finish my goal.

A few things went through my mind during those last 4.2 miles.  Geez, I have already run 22, I can’t quit now…I run more than 5 miles every day…Why did I sign up to do this thing…How many miles have I run over the last 3 months to feel what I am feeling now…If I can just run the remaining miles in about 13 minutes each, I can still meet my goal…the sooner I am done, the sooner I can stop…this is one of the dumbest things I have ever done in my life…just keep running, just keep running.

I kept running, finished, was able to stop, did not regret signing up, and plan to do it again and again.  Because I am a runner.

by Jason

Reader’s Choice: Kristen

Reader’s Choice: How I got started in modeling Part 3

When I was pregnant with Phoebe, living in Maryland, I remember seeing a segment on a morning news program about an agent who represented pregnant women models.  I bookmarked that in my mind as something I would LOVE to do, even though I was not a model or living in NYC. It just seemed DREAMY.

After I got started in the industry in New York, when I came across a mom of a baby I asked them if they had modeled while pregnant, to see if I could figure out that whole situation.  One afternoon while I was waiting literally for an hour or more for a casting at Maybelline, I met my friend Victoria and she told me about Expecting Models. She gave me a contact name and number and when I fell pregnant (as the Australians say as if it is an illness-love it), I phoned them up.

Our meeting went well and I was signed up to work with Expecting Models.  The Belly and I booked several jobs together during the gestation of Lolly, and those photos are amazing memories for me…some of my favorite jobs EVER.  I felt concerned that being pregnant a second time wouldn’t mean as much as the first time, but this pregnancy was completely unique for the attention given to my motherhood on a weekly basis.

After the baby was born, Lolly and I continued to work together doing dozens of jobs her first year of life, which also sealed our bond together, as we were forced to be together, just the two of us.  The agent at Expecting Models invited me to be part of her series, Runway Moms and taping that with my family was the ultimate NY keepsake of our time here starting our little family.

She also graciously introduced me to my TV agents that I am still under contract with, and who have aided me in acquiring all my commercial gigs.  The modeling has had a domino effect for my entire career and I try to pay it forward whenever I can.

Reader’s Choice: Kristen

Reader’s Choice: How I got started in modeling Part 2

After I started high school and went through puberty, I found that my body liked to reside in a size 12.  I will never love my thighs, no matter their size, but I was relatively content in my skin because I thought I ate healthy (now I know that a bagel every day does not keep the cellulite away), and I exercised frequently and regularly all through high school, by senior year I had a 7:40 mile on the fitness test! Woot!  It never crossed my mind to pursue modeling anyway, I was much too busy doing theatre, music and student council.

Shortly after graduating from college (really, it was), at age 22, I had a baby.  The pregnancy involved a 3-month stretch of vomiting to rival any good little anorexic, and I became thin.  Within 24 hours of having a baby I was wearing my pre-baby jeans and they were loose. Add that to moving to the city (Wanna lose 10 pounds? move to the city), and I was suddenly a size 6 (4 on a good day).  I started to remember that day in Minneapolis when a few people thought I was pretty enough to photograph and decided that I wanted to pursue modeling, a better word for it is PRINT WORK.

I had just moved from DC where I had met some contacts in NY and a few of them were really happy to help me get started.  Alice Ripley (a kind and generous recent Tony-award winner awesome lady) hooked me up with her commercial agent, who I conversed with about my goals. He passed on me (not edgy enough for her age group), but sent me over to the print department and the adult agent there paged through my photos (that I had recently had taken by a NY photographer) basically looking everywhere but at the photos, and said very few words to me, and deflated my hopes completely. She showed less interest in me and my photos then a dead armadillo.

I also was given a contact by a friend of mine. A woman who was a Mom living in the city and had been modeling for about 20 years. I phoned her and explained my desires to start modeling and she asked me how old I was: 23. Her reply: Aren’t you a little old to start modeling? Insert sad trombone music here.  I persisted and asked her to fax me some information on models, which she never did, and I felt deflated a little more.

My plan B was to get my daughter into the modeling circuit.  I was permitted to visit the youth print agent at Alice’s agency, and that agent gladly took Phoebe on as her client, when she was about 18 months old.

Phoebe booked some jobs, but she wasn’t the best model.  She had a hard time opening up on set and her rival talent girls had websites and Moms with nothing else to do, so her work quickly tapered off, but her agent got promoted to the adult division when the Dead Armadillo went off to start her own agency, and called me up to join!

This was the first time I exploited my child for my benefit.

My agent (who is still my agent) and I put together a composite card of my first photos that I had taken and started sending me out.  My very first job was for a catalog for a sweater company called Lauren Hansen.  I remember feeling so excited to have my first job and I was so green because all I brought to wear was a black bra. I ended up shooting the whole catalog bra-less. Ridiculous.  I was so proud of that little catalog when it came out.

I worked a lot the first two years: IDT, Baby Orajel, Parents Magazine.  On one particular go-see I was put on hold for a $15,000 job for a hair product. I could not believe that one could make that kind of money on one print job.  My agent told me it was down to 2 girls and asked if I would dye my hair and of course the answer was YES!  I was absolutely heart-broken when I didn’t book that one.

So, that was the start of it in New York, and it continues today.

Reader’s Choice: Kristen

“How you got started as a model, and what’s been your favorite model job.”

Reader’s Choice: How I got started in modeling Part 1

The real start to my modeling career (if you can call it that, I still think it’s NOT modeling because I have never and will never grace a catwalk or be a size negative zero) began when I was 14 years old.

I was getting ready to graduate from middle school and peers were out buying dresses for the graduation ceremony.  I told my Mom that I wanted to get a new dress like my friends and she sadly told me that we couldn’t afford to get a dress for graduation, especially since it would be covered by a robe.

I understood but I was disappointed. Later that afternoon my Mom came into my room and said: “Let’s go to the mall.” I was so excited.  We drove to our favorite department store, Marshall Fields (Macy’s, did you HAVE to take it over?), and picked out a pale pink dress with gold buttons down the front.  At the checkout counter, a stack of papers printed with purple ink caught my eye. FACE OF TODAY CONTEST: looking for girls age 14-21 who would be chosen for their academics (fyi I just misspelled that word), service and beauty.  The deadline to enter the contest was the next day.  This is when I pulled out my second pleading look of the day and begged my mom to let me enter the contest. That look worked pretty well, for she agreed.

I called my Dad at his dental office and asked him to please bring home his fancy camera that he used to take pictures of teeth.  When he arrived we had to beat the daylight, so we went in the backyard, I applied my prettiest makeup and got my hair to look as close to Kate Moss’ as possible and we took a roll of film.  That evening he got it developed at the one-hour photo place while I filled out the essays on the back of the paper.

The next day my Mom got it turned in for me somehow even though she had three other children aged 11, 5 and 3 years old to attend to. The mall was not exactly on her normal errands route.

I forgot about the contest until a few months later when I was lounging on a summer afternoon watching a rerun of Charlie’s Angels and the phone rang. It was Robin Agetter (not sure I spelled that right, but I will never forget that name): “Hi Kristy, this is Robin Agetter at Marshall Fields, I’m calling to let you know that you are the winner of our Face of Today contest and I want to check your availability to travel.”

Since her sentence was two parts, I never had the elation from the first part, I just skipped right to the pit in my stomach.  I remember when I filled out the contest form that the required travel dates were smack dab in the middle of our family vacation, which I of course ignored because I wasn’t going to win.

I ran into my Mom’s room and, by then elated and pit-ty at the same time, exclaimed: “MOM! I WON the Face of Today contest—-but what about vacation?” Confusion all around. Mom clearly didn’t believe me…the rest I don’t remember, but I imagine that my mom had a conversation with Ms. Marshall Fields, and after conjuring up my third pleading look of this story, my Mom worked out a way for it ALL to work.

How it worked was this: Our family rented an RV to travel from Chicagoland to the WEST.  We often went WEST for our family vacations for weeks at a time.  During the end part of our journey we found ourselves in Jackson Hole WY, at my Great-Aunts (amazing btw) cabin.  We spent the night there and then flew out with my mom to Marshall Fields’ (now Target Corporation) headquarters in Minneapolis, MN.  My Dad was left with those three kids and an RV, and possibly a weiner dog, Barney (mom, verify please).

We were picked up in a stretch (Mom? verify) limo and toured around the city seeing the beautiful buildings, lakes, sculptures of the city. When we arrived in our super fancy (remember we had just spent a week or 2 in an RV), hotel room, there were fresh flowers and a note welcoming me to the Twin Cities.  I’m pretty sure Mom and I ate at a fancy restaurant that night. It was fancy all around.

The next day was my first photo shoot ever.  A few things about that day: I was suffering from a bladder infection and diarrhea that were friends of my first menstruation. Does this surprise any of you? This is how my life goes…it’s bittersweet all the time and this is one of a thousand experiences that have taught me the wonderful lesson: humility.

This bowel situation was unfortunate because I had a job to do, and I had to do it in a bodysuit. Remember how those were the fashionable things to wear in 1993? It was black bodysuits accompanied by baggy jeans/overalls/suspenders.  Try to think back, you might remember.  Every time I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom for one of my three ailments, I had to take my entire outfit off. It was ridiculous.

Also, I got into the makeup chair and the makeup artist, who told me the week before she had done Niki Taylor’s makeup (AH! I could not believe THAT), took a hatchet to my eyebrows. By the way, a few years ago Niki’s new makeup artist for her bravo show did my makeup and I thought that was a funny full circle detail to this whole career of mine.

I was so brave as I watched with fascination and adoration the first-time sculpture of my eyebrows! This was a whole new world to me. I had been obsessed (OBSESSED!) I tell you about being allowed to shave my legs, and I had never known that I needed to beg for a pair of tweezers. This episode was the first of many I have had in the makeup chair learning everything I could about making myself beautiful.  I paid close attention to what she did, and I have plucked my own eyebrows ever since. Towards the beginning I had a time there when they were a little too thin, but I grew them out during a show once and started over and have to say that I think I am doing a fine job….all because of that makeup artist that day in Minneapolis, MN.

I have no memory of the photographer, but I do have an image in my mind of a handful of Marshall Fields’ executives watching the shoot from the back of the studio, all dressed in black, and my mom watching off to the side in mom clothes that were not black and probably accompanied by white socks and white keds.  We were not in Kansas anymore my Mom and me, and perhaps that moment was the first seed of the orchard that has become my life now.

The photos taken that day were for the cover of Marshall Field’s magazine that came out in the newspapers in the midwest, including the Chicago Tribune. We got all of our copies and there my face was (braces concealed under my luscious lips decorated by Niki Taylor’s makeup artist!!!!) with my waifish hair.  There was text on the cover and a teeny tiny paragraph inside telling the Midwest that I was the Face of Today.

Other then being exciting and confidence-boosting, this experience made me feel on-the-spot. Other kids in my community knew about this, in fact on the first day of high school, a teacher had posted it on one of her bulletin boards. This filled me with trepidation as I was unsure how it would be received. Would this make me cool? made fun of? I wasn’t sure how it would pan out so I cautiously proceeded and ended up giving off the impression, whether deserved or not, of being snobby. I also discovered for the first time that I was pretty.  Though I had always been totally interested in all things beauty: nails, hair, makeup, more! more! more!–I loved it from age 12 on (still do), I never consciously thought: wow, I am a looker!

To be told by others, and have that validated by winning a beauty (and other) contest, was new territory for me.  It was surprising. And after I adjusted to it, I started feeling like my face was a blessing, a luck-of-the-draw asset.  I started to like my face at least….but I’m still working on liking the rest of my parts. Isn’t that ridiculous? Perhaps that’s part of the pursuit too….world, will you please tell me that I am worthy of representing your diapers? birth control pills? tunafish?

Don’t worry, my days in the therapists chair aren’t over.  I’m still working on believing that my whole self is beautiful.

Reader’s Choice: Kristin

“hey ms. kristy!
loong time reader, first time “commentator”. since you asked…how about u-n-jason’s love story???? or how u came to NYC?”

I attended DePaul University on the north side of Chicago.  During my freshman year I attended church in Logan Square.  In our church there are often Singles Wards for people who are not married (looking for love), but I attended a family ward (congregation) and participated in our small Single Adults Group.

I thought it was hilarious when I was asked to be the Young (18-30) Single Adult Representative.  Part of my job as the representative was to organize and attend events for our small group.  In our ward, the group consisted of about three to five, 24-28-year-old young professional men, 2 other girls around my age (18-20) and then a few random single mem and women who were pushing the young part.

I didn’t feel I fit in anywhere with this group. I was fine with getting to know the young men, but figured they would think I was a dumb teenager, and the other girls were there nannying and ballerinaing, and I was in the college mind-set, so I did my job, and socialized on a very surfacey level and kept to myself.

One Sunday I sat next to a young man wearing a vest (a vest!). I think I had seen him before wearing one of his Austrian wool vests, but on this Sunday he was wearing a reversible Tommy Hilfiger vest.  I think I had met him before, but when I sat down next to him, I needed to be reminded of his name, so I looked at his Bible, and there it was inscribed on the outside: Jason Glass.  And in my head-I kid you not-I said: Kristy Glass…huh, that’s a nice name.

BUT! It was not because I was attracted to him, thought he was cute or liked his vest, I just liked his name.

Now his part of the story: He had a roommate that was similar age and station in life and they had a conversation that went like this:

Jason: “So whattya think of Kristy?”

Roomie: “Oh, I think she’s cute”

Jason: “So, do you think you’re gonna ask her out?”

Roomie: “Yeah maybe”

Jason: “Well, when you gonna ask her out?”

Roomie: “Oh, I don’t know”

Jason: “Then, I’m gonna ask her out.”

I’m not sure when that conversation happened, but before he asked me out, this happened:

There was a Halloween Dance for Chicagoland Single Adults.  It was located in the suburbs, in the church building where I attended when I was age 5-7.  Since I was the representative for our group, I had to go.  I was very reluctant to attend this event because I felt way too young for the meat-market that is the Mormon Singles Halloween Dance (see above link).  I was also in the process of a long and drawn out on again-off again relationship that was hanging on from high school (high school! I was 18!)….breaking up situation.

I arrived at the dance wearing a size large Jack-o-lantern turtleneck that I borrowed from my mother.  (note: I am bitterly ashamed of myself for not having the creativity and confidence to rock an awesome costume)  I recognized one person, and that was a man I had been in a play with when I was 14 years old.  I thought of him as OLD.  I was horrified that I would now be meat in his market.  I turned around and drove to the nearest retail establishment: Frank’s Nursery, and wandered the aisles slowly until I was forced out because it was closing time.

I went back to the dance to see if the circumstances had become more favorable. Nope. This time I went to a Wendy’s, purchased a frosty and groveled while I ate it. I was feeling pathetically sorry for myself for the demise of one relationship and my station in life: teenager stuck trying to fit in, wearing….a jack-o-lantern turtleneck.

I decided to try one more time.  As I was pulling into the parking lot, a zippy red eclipse was too, and out popped three of the guys from my ward: Jason, Roomie and tall guy.  I was so pleased to see familiar faces NOT wearing costumes.

I walked in with them.  Almost immediately Jason asked me to dance and so we did.  It was surreal for me to be dancing with a man (24!).  He monopolized my time even when au pair girl was trying to make it a threesome.  When it was over, he walked me to my car and I knew I had a suitor.  He asked me to go out with him and I said YES.

On the long drive home my pathetic grovel session had completely turned around and I literally smiled from ear to ear and probably did a fair amount of squealing as I thought through the prospect of dating a MAN! (Consequently, he asked me out for a date on the same day I had tentative plans with the suddenly completely OFF AGAIN boyf…hee hee hee….Guess which one I went out with that night?)

There are a few more scenes from our courtship that I remember (many I don’t), but the most important feeling over our entire 5 month courtship and then 5 month engagement was that we knew we had found our intended.  It wasn’t blazing lust, gooshy heart-thumping crazy love….it was reality. It was as if we had  just found the puzzle piece that fit with the one we were trying on different people for years before. It was our TAO, the only way for us….together now.

I recently posted a quote on my vision board:

“Love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.” ~Antoine De Saint-Exupery

This is how our relationship works.  We are on parallel roads with the same destination, that criss cross here and there.

I found the turtleneck last summer, and took a photo with it. Proof of it’s magical powers.