Faded Glory

There are a few things I know now by trial and error, when attention comes your way embrace it. Be brave enough to embrace and enjoy five minutes of some kind of fucked up fame, to be seen through the camera lens even while it steals a piece of your vulnerable heart and sacred soul. It’s okay to try on different versions, experimenting behind platinum blond and a fuck you,

Fashion is Fickle

  FASHION IS FICKLE When did we become a society of images scrolling past on someone’s smartphone? It’s nonsensical, comical and yet. Modeling was my life for two decades. I never felt entitled, prettier, skinnier or better than the next girl. In fact, I always felt a little less than. Maybe if I was thinner, smarter, or a skilled marketer I’d be a smarter brand, book better caliber jobs even though

The Paradox of Our Age & a Beatbox

The Paradox of Our Age and a Beatbox By Jacqueline Cioffa I’m not going to spin the crooked ways the world disgusts me, fueled by greed, and selfie look-at-me affliction. I’m not going to ask why the hell we’re celebrating, glorifying, mystifying, ridiculing, opinionating, posturizing, and Glam-O-Rizing Reality TV wannabe Celebrity with million dollar ‘99 problems but the bitch ain’t one’ bad behavior? I’m not going to rant and rave graphic, go on and on and

#BOOK FEATURE: THE PINK MARINE by Greg White Cope

I am thrilled and proud to present the hilarious and touching The Pink Marine by the multi-talented author Greg White Cope with Querelle Press.   ​TITLE: The Pink Marine AUTHOR: Greg Cope White PUBLISHER: Querelle Press DATE OF PUBLICATION: October 21, 2015   BLURB: When Greg Cope White’s best friend tells him he is spending his summer in Marine Corps boot camp, all Greg hears is “summer” and “camp.” Despite dire warnings from his friend,

Grow Your Garden a love of self

Loving yourself takes time. I didn’t know not exactly, not until this moment. I never believed brushing aside the possibility of happy. Tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow I’ll embrace the quirks and eccentrities. Tomorrow. Funny time wasted. Not funny. This end of April Sunday close to May, I stand at the fault line. Middle-aged. The compost pile is toppling from all the shit dumped over the years. I don’t know about you, maybe you were born over-confident.

To bleed ink from her heart.

For those of you that don’t know me and most don’t, I led a privileged life for many, many years. Traveled to exotic locales on somebody else’s dime lived in Paris, Milan, London, Barcelona, Madrid, Cape Town, Miami, Hollywood, NYC… I was a fashion model who earned a living from her looks. The bizarre, crazy existence was the difficult lifestyle to explain. It was a job with bonanza benefits. I never took