Screengrab by Various Today in Nerve's film blog: Holiday special - 35 people, places and movies we're thankful for.
The Remote Island by Bryan Christian Michael Phelps indulges Anderson Cooper in some watersports and Dexter makes a 'bitch move.' Plus: the secret of Tina Fey's scar, revealed!
Dating Advice From . . . Engineers by Steph Auteri Q. For optimal functionality, what should go into a first-date emergency kit? A. Fine wine, road flares, a snake-bite kit and Ghirardelli chocolates.
During my sophomore year of college, I applied to be a clothing model in a
newspaper ad for a local department store. "You don't need to look like Brad
Pitt," my friend the marketing major assured me, so I went to the model call
and filled out a form with my dimensions and phone number. A woman took a
Polaroid of me and stapled it to the form. Then I sat in a hallway and
waited while a parade of Brad Pitt and Sienna Miller look-alikes were called
into a studio, one by one.
Across from me, a girl with too much green eye makeup, fishnet stockings and
fun, frizzy hair sat waiting as well, probably there on someone's advice
that she needn't look like Sienna Miller. Eventually, she must have realized
that her name wasn't going to be called and got up and left. It wasn't long
before I realized the same thing about myself, and I got up and walked out
as well.
Michael Sloane's models have small breasts or inexplicably big ones, and
hair that's all tangled or that curls up in the back in cheeky little
ringlets. They look a bit inappropriate, which is what makes them so
achingly sexy. If the ratty old couch they're perched on were a seat in a
hallway at a department-store modeling call, they'd be sitting on it
forever. And if you happened to be the one sitting across from them, that
would be just fine with you. — Will Doig
