high-quality nonsense

In Which She’s Every Woman » August 2001. I am nineteen, ordering an ice cream cone from a vendor in Washington Square Park. A woman approaches me and tells me that she’s with Getty Images. They’re shooting stock photos in the park today, would I be willing to pose? Then she hands me a fifty dollar bill. [..]So I stood in front of the white backdrop and a bearded photographer shined two soft lights on me and I smiled. A snap later it was done. Then I signed a piece of paper saying I wouldn’t appear in any compromising advertisements. This, they explained, meant that I would not be featured in any ads saying “I Have AIDS” or “I love Meat.” And I went on my way. I never imagined I’d see this photo anywhere but two years later it appeared. Then it appeared again. And again. «

In Which She’s Every Woman

» August 2001. I am nineteen, ordering an ice cream cone from a vendor in Washington Square Park. A woman approaches me and tells me that she’s with Getty Images. They’re shooting stock photos in the park today, would I be willing to pose? Then she hands me a fifty dollar bill. [..]
So I stood in front of the white backdrop and a bearded photographer shined two soft lights on me and I smiled. A snap later it was done. Then I signed a piece of paper saying I wouldn’t appear in any compromising advertisements. This, they explained, meant that I would not be featured in any ads saying “I Have AIDS” or “I love Meat.” And I went on my way. I never imagined I’d see this photo anywhere but two years later it appeared. Then it appeared again. And again. «

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