name: Elle Barringer
hometown: New York City
collection: coming soon
likes: cold weather sports, peppermint mocha, whipped cream, pea coats, singing in the shower, anything knit, big cities, riding bikes, nightlife, and rings
dislikes: popstars and divas, reading anything that’s not sheet music or lyrics, cutting her nails, exercise that involves running, underwear, not having a football team to root for, and sloppiness
music: Band of Horses, Ed Sheeran, Finley Quaye, Mumford & Sons, The Honey Brothers, Patrick Park, Peter Bjorn and John, She & Him, Something Corporate, Sufjan Stevens, a mix of techno music, oldies, and whatever comes on the radio
food: soup- usually Ramen, fruit smoothies, breakfast bars, salads, lasagna, and the occasional Chipotle burrito
style: a lot of jeans, oversized sweaters, pea coats, knit everything, ankle boots, and tights, Free People, and Madewell- think comfortable and laidback preppy
family: growing up, Elle was the girl of the house. Her mom walked out when she was seven and it was up to her dad to take care of both Elle and her older brother, Nick. Looking at the two now, clearly her dad was fine on his own. He resides in New York City as the Vice President of a disaster restoration company.
appearence: Elle is 5’7” with brown hair that falls to the middle of her back, a small waist but with curves in the right places, light green eyes, and a visible Brazilian background.
model: Nathalie Edenburg
Top model choices: 100% Nathalie, but if not her, then Tilda Lindstam, Victoria Lee, or Terra Jo Wallace
Just a quick story--
“Where are you going?”
I keep walking, trying to push Nick out of the way, but he’s too big. He stood in front of the door to /our/ apartment, something he often forgets, and blocks the only exit.
“Just out,” I sigh, sick of his questioning. Ever since we got back to Boston and I, after a reckless night, ended up sleeping outside with my dress unzipped, shoes gone, tights ripped, and hair a mess, Nick had been watching me like a hawk.
It would wear off once classes started.
“Come on, tell me, please,” he begs and I give in, explaining that I had ann interview. His face softens. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have prepped you or something.”
“I didn’t want to jinx it, god, now can you just let me go? I’m going to be late and I’m already nervous enough,” I scowl as he laughs at me, but he nods anyways.
“Alright, good luck, then.”
He moves out of the way and I head off to the T, trying not to trip over my heels as I hurried there. Thanks to Nick’s third degree, I was already five minutes late.
The price you have to pay as an uncoordinated college girl who lives with her graduate student brother.
If I get this, may I reserve Sean O’Pry, Alex Pettyfer, and Nick Zano (for her bro)
second set comig soon