Romantic Vintage Ballet Flats - Le Bunny Bleu
WHO WATCHED X FACTOR!?
jillian jensen and carly rose sonenclar
name: Violet Calloway
birthday: December 14
major: Art History
hometown: San Francisco, California
style: Retro, she likes mini dresses, 60s influence but still modern
biography: Violet wants to work in a gallery one day. Art fascinates her and she is inspired by Andy Warhol and Edie Seggwick. Violet is likes to climb the social ladder. She is very flirtatious, charming and a bit of a part girl too.
model: Cara Delevingne
taken by: @thatporcelaindoll
Cara's legit perfect for this part it's scary.
[Answer in detail. The more information the better.]
Answer these questions in character-
▶Tell us about you.
Hey everyone, I guess I should start off with an introduction, and yadayadayada. I'm Violet, and strictly Violet. No Vio, or V, or whatever nickname people seem to come up with- but I will accept Violet Warhol with open arms, as Andy is my lover. Not so much a looker, but his talent... now that's something indescribable. Wow, look at me, talking about art again. That's one subject I could spend the rest of my years talking about. All you need to do to make me happy is stick me in an art gallery, with a gorgeous Mary Quant mini and a pair of strappy heels on. So f-ckin' groovy. See, you really don't need much to make me happy!! Yet I've always found myself 'difficulty' in the male department. I've spent my entire 18 years with a couple 'flings' here and there... Mostly drunken nights under the Hollywood sign, or getting high by the Cali waters. Never, ever, anything serious. I leave that for the studio. I'm too young anyway! But when it comes to guys, they always expect more, ya know? I usually tell 'em to hang loose, chill out. They never listen, /always/ expecting a relationship. Anyway, besides talking about relationsh-ts, I've been living in Seattle for college. It's nice, not gonna' lie, but I feel like my body's here and my head's still in Cali. I love it there. I miss my friends too. Don't get me wrong, the people here are awesome, but I just miss those nights. The nights where we jumped into someone's car, got high, and gallery hopped the entire night, only to find ourselves in the mist of the beach, stripping down and swimming until the sun rose. Just-f-ckin-perfect.
▶How do you see yourself and how do others see you?
When I look into the mirror I see an average blonde chick, who wears too much neon. But on the inside, I guess I'm pretty much like everyone else. Insecure at times, but covers it up with sarcastic jokes. A love for fashion and glamour, and nights out with the gals and cute boys. I've been called many names before. Sl-ut, skank, social climbing b-tch, basically, D- all of the above. And though I try and hide it with new haircuts and smug smiles, each times it happens, it hurts more and more. It does seem like confidence oozes out of my pores, but it's never like that. Even the most confident person in the world has his or her moments. It's whatever though, you live and you learn.
▶What is your history? Tell us about life growing up.
Life as a child... you don't know how much I would f-cking give to go back to those years. Where my dad took me to street fairs full of art, (I guess that's where the obsession originated), me tugging on the hem of his regular leather jacket, whining about my desire for cotton candy or some other sugary sh-t. But even though I told my friends at school my dad was 'so lame', I loved those weekend adventures with him into the world of unknown and local artists. I felt like I collected a piece of them everytime I stared and examined their art. It's just simply magical. Those were my elementary and middle school years. Filled with tacky and cheap drugstore makeup, a very bad haircut, and of course, Joseph Morgan. His blue braces and the way he bit his bottom lip when he was thinking too hard just grabbed my heart and tore it in two. He was my first love, even though I was only in 7th grade, and in my little bubble of the world. Joseph knew I had the biggest crush on him, I legit told everyone I came in contact with. And it was around Christmas time when he told me to meet him afterschool, behind the building. I did as I was told, excitement turning my cheeks red, trudging through the snow. And there I waited, minute after minute turning by, slowly growing more anxious. It was about one and a half hours later until I realized he wasn't showing up. Broken hearted and freezing, I cried the entire way home, dotting my tears with my thick gloves. I thought maybe he forgot, or his mom made him come home, all night long, tossing and turning. It was the next day in History class when I saw him again, I was going to say something... until I saw him laughing with another girl, hand in hand entwined, staring right at me with his new girlfriend, Becky. That was the moment when I swore I would never love again. Of course that's not how life pans out, I was only 12, but still that distrust bubbles within me.
▶What are your likes, dislikes, favorite bands, hobbies, ect?
Likes include the 60's, art as usual, Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick are my gods, neon lipstick, trashy realty shows, my beautiful family, undiscovered rock bands, sequins, thrift stores, raspberry tea, documentaries, night clubs, and Chinese food.
Dislikes: Cheap cologne, commitment, bad attitudes, authority, and arrogance.
▶Finally, If there was a quote to describe you, what would it be?
I love Los Angeles. I love Hollywood. They're beautiful. Everybody's plastic, but I love plastic. I want to be plastic. - Andy Warhol
They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. - Edgar Allan Poe
I couldn't pick.
Answer these questions out of character-
▶Why do you want to be apart of this roleplay?
Because not only are the requirements chill, but I love the idea of taking young adults with their entire future ahead, and allowing us to map it out and create something out of nothing. And once in a while it's nice to throw away some of the fake glitz and glamour most of the roleplays today contain, and strip it down to just average people with larger than life dreams.
▶What other roleplays are you in and do you think you will be able to make at least one set a week (preferably more)?
None at the moment, and I'm certainly hoping! School is the usual excuse and the usual drag, but once things start getting into rhythm, then hopefully I'm have more time.
▶List your top three character and model choices.
I'm really only going for Violet. And the only other character I really like there have been several auditions for her so it's pointless to put her down. So Violet is #1, #2, and #3.
▶Do you have some sort of storyline planned for your character? This question is really here so you can think about it. I really don't want people to tryout if they are going to stop writing by next week.
Yes I do! I'm hoping to develop her career, personality and life in general- and perhaps throw in a guy.
Stubbornly, I kicked up a pile of small rocks with my pointed ankle boots, leaving a cloud of dust kissing at the top of the worn leather. I gripped my strong black coffee tightly, (what most artists drink naturally), and brushed away strands of frizzy blonde hair away from my face. Blame this sh-tty weather alright! I cursed up into the clouds, wishing I were back on the beach.
“Violetttttttt” Someone called out my name in a singsong matter, and I rolled my eyes before stomping around, already pissed off at the world.
“Jeremy...” I huffed, “I’m pleased you finally had the fu-king decency to show up and grace me with your presence,” I bowed down, a smug grimace atop of my pink chapped lips, before tossing my coffee.
“It’s my pleasure,” he smirked, punching me in my right arm lightly.
“Okay, now can we finally go!?” I pulled his arm towards me as we ran up the Art Not Terminal Gallery, giddiness twisting around my bones. Yes… perhaps it wasn’t the MoMA or the Louvre, but it’ll have to do, for now that is. I took a quick peek over at Jeremy, catching him run his fingers through his hair lightly. He was really the only guy I could drag to any museum, and though he’d never admit it, I’m positive he enjoys the experience as well. We’re just friends, though most mistake us as either a couple or siblings (which is always awkward), but I know he’ll be a good friend for a long time. Which is comforting. It’s always nice to have something sturdy to lean on, especially when your life is hit with a storm. And that storm… I guess would have to be the passing of my parents. Yeah yeah yeah, I don’t need pity alright. That’s one thing I can’t fu-king stand: pity. But anyway, they died a year ago, though it only feels like yesterday when their car flew off a bridge into the water. But instead of shutting off everything and accepting /pity/, I channeled my feelings into my art and my studies. So really, I guess I can slightly thank them for where I am today, though that’s inhumane and I really do miss them everyday. I just wish I could remember the last things I said to them. Those last memories. But they’ve been lost between the other junk in my brain’s hard drive. Which really sucks.
I paid the $20 fee along with Jeremy, and we walked off together, into a big white room filled with blinking neon lights and electric toy cars glued to the ceiling. I took in all the noise, (metaphorical noise of course), and sighed to myself internally, feeling suddenly at peace even with the cheap toys and severely annoying bright lights. We moved on. Only to find ourselves with another exhibit filled with more people.
“Yes I know, hosting this event has put a terrible strain on my muscles. I’ll be glad once it’s over, and in need of a massage and a couple vodka shots,” The woman tittered to the man beside her, laughing mysteriously at her own chatter. The man seemed to agree.
“Don’t get me started Barbara, this whole New Age Art Party idea was brilliant, I gotta’ say, but when our team consists of only 20 people it’s basically impossible.” He shook his head, as his salt and pepper hair ruffled together.
“I’m sorry..” I interrupted, walking over to them “but I couldn’t help but overhear about the New Age Art Party. I’ve read much about it, and I’m honestly honored right now to be speaking to those who are hosting it!” I slithered on the fakest of smiles, gliding over to them and tilting my head innocently. They stared back at me with wide smiles, and the woman put her hand to her chest.
“That’s incredibly sweet of you dear! This event has been incredibly hard to put together,” She pursed her red painted lips.
“As I’m sure it is! But with all the praise I’ve been hearing, I’m positive it’ll turn out fabulous.” I smiled innocently.
“Wow, thank you dear! May I ask, do you have a ticket for the event?” The man grinned. I dropped the smile, looking down at my dusty shoes.
“Unfortunately, no. I really wish I did though, I hear it’s going to be the party of the year.”
“Well you’re in luck, hon. We’ll do you a favor today, but you owe us!” He smirked at me, taking out his wallet and slipping out a business card.
“You got a pen, Barb?” She nodded and took one out of her bag, handing it to him. “Thanks.” Writing down something, he handed it over to me with a grin.
“I’ll be expecting you!”
I grinned like a little boy in a candy shop.
“Thank you so much, you have no idea how much this means to me!” I accepted the card, and shook their hands, finally turning away and heading back to Jeremy who had his hands shoved in his pockets and was slowly shaking his head at me.
“Have you ever even heard of that event?” He snickered, whispering to me.
“Kinda,” I scoffed. “But huge fu-king Seattle artists are gonna’ be there, so it is vital that I attend. And who wouldn’t pass up a party” I winked, shoving the card into my jacket pocket.
“You know I’m not a party person, V,” Jeremy pushed me lightly.
“It’s Violet” I rolled my eyes, “and I know, which is why I never asked for an invite for you,”
“Wow thanks, I’m glad you care about me,” He gathered me in for an extremely too tight hug before leading me to the next room.