Tell PETA my mink is draggin' on the floor.
Watch as I use every Kanye lyric ever as a title for all of my sets.
Magdalena Frackowiak has a perfect asss.
EXHIBIT A: http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzonwfJyke1r6ry43o1_500.png
EXHIBIT B: http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lxdg7q8s0i1r6ry43o1_500.jpg
EXHIBIT C: http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lwfsouPsfy1r6ry43o1_500.jpg
EXHIBIT D: http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lwel669oqV1r6ry43o1_500.jpg (queen xoxo)
And while I'm not a huge VS fan (only my bby Morgane) I adore Magda on and off the VS runway. Perfect asss for a perfect queen.
Klára Květa-Nováková (20)
Hometown: Born in Ibiza, Spain; Raised (and discovered) in Prague, Czech Republic
Previous jobs: Copious amounts of runway work; At various times the face of Miu Miu, Louis Vuitton, Givenchy, Prada, and Balenciaga, in that order, and both Prada and Balenciaga multiple times; Star of several Dior video advertisements as well as campaigns; Model in Kanye West's video for Way Too Cold (Theraflu)
I adapted all of this (except for the Kanye Bit, that was my doing, and she's been in a total of one Dior campaign, not several) from Magdalena's own history, so don't give me anything about godmodding or whatever
Bio: "The fashion industry is not about who you know, it's about who you blow." Noted pervert and apparent pedophile Terry Richardson has an almost iconic quote, that, whether or not it is liked or fair or receive positively, is undoubtedly true. The innocent under-eighteens that filter through New York agencies every day are subjected to horrific lows for jobs: three am surprise castings, extreme dieting, hellish model apartments, and sex with the older men who run the brands. Some girls break under the pressures, some strive, and some refuse to give in. It should come as no surprise that Victoria's Secret is allegedly among the brands models resort to sexual favours to gain jobs for. Some models inherently deny it, some say nothing. Some let their fans be their protection. Klára Květa-Nováková, simply called Klara by the industry and public that are too lazy to use accents, is a Victoria's Secret model, and a brilliant one, her first appearance with the brand highly coveted and her first show distinguished by the fact that she was given wings immediately- and the outfit made for the most Angelic of all the Angels. Her fan sites laud her as angelic and sweet, beautiful, sexy, cute. At Victoria's Secret events, she's adoring and in something like disbelief at her fans, and seems appreciative and kind, unlike some of her fellows. Of course, behind closed doors she's a sadistic dominatrix, the female Christian Grey of the industry who fxcked her way to the top and really should be toppled.
(holy dhsjdfjbd I tried to limit myself to 7-8 sentences I really did)
Model: Magdalena Frackowiak
STORY (somewhat graphic warning):
The casting director was, like most his age, a screamer. It took less than ten minutes for me to finish, and mercifully without even having to touch him with my own skin. He doubled over when he was panting on the carpet of his office, clutching his reddened abdomen. I noted his reactions clinically for late usage, retying the pink silky robe and setting in the chair looming over him. “How many wings?” I purr. “T-two pairs.” He croaks, and I lean my chin on my hand, considering. “Yes.” We end our transaction without so much as another glance. I lock his door behind me.
The New York weather outside the conspicuous VS Direct offices was frightful, the snow beginning to accumulate on my shoulders and in my hair, resting on top of my eyelashes. There were three girls clad in all PINK wear a few steps down the sidewalk, shivering and holding out my photographs. There must have been a leak that casting was today. I stopped, and graced them with a smile and an accented hello while they cooed and panicked and squealed. I signed their photos, drawing a little snowflake and ‘thank you for wait in cold to see me’ on each. It was not unusual. A few natives glanced our way, perhaps recognizing, perhaps not, but no one else stopped me on my way to the hotel.
I drew a bath, shivering on the cold tile while I waited for the hot water to fill, looking at my reflection in the mirror. A lingerie model body, lanky and fluid and catlike. A catwalk face, all high cheekbones and soft puffy lips. My agent said I was a Goddess. The designers, their shows, their campaigns agreed. The casting agents faltered until there were imprints on their naked body and I was holding the belt.
It was a rough life, I agreed with myself, closing my eyes and downing the last of the hundred dollar champagne I had been delivered at no cost to myself as I slipped under the water streaming from the gold fixtures and filling the marble tub, the room lit by a hundred ivory candles
@sophiaspastic @haute-hippie Done!