being almost there and almost not.
And it’s almost brilliant being almost brilliant
and almost great being almost Elite.
And it’s almost awesome landing the first job
and being optioned and requested until you’re not.
And it’s almost crazy being almost crazy
about almost being Comme des Garçons next chap.
And it’s almost delightful desecrating Dior’s HQ
and almost wonderful when I’m eyeing up you.
And it’s almost grand being almost ASOS’s man
and it’s almost incredible being told you’re too thin.
And it’s almost phenomenal being in the top 6
beating 300 guys and almost getting it.
And it’s almost amazing being ”99%” Balenciaga’s boy
and it’s almost fantastic being almost GHD
and almost okay when you get nothing
and it’s almost marvellous being me.
Perhaps reading this feels close to home because it's about a models life. Of never knowing. Of rejection and not quite making the cut. Not quite being good enough. Hearing the 'We love you but...' Or maybe due to my character being the type that is always one step ahead of herself, and already built the next goal before even reaching the first one. Always being almost there because no matter how well I do or how far I go, I can always go one step better. Well, it 'must' be fabulous being me, right?
Maybe this is just my interpretation of these words but I really do adore this poem recently written by a lovely friend of mine, Max Wallis. A beautiful model, wonderful soul and a talented writer. (I even own a copy of 'Modern Love', his first published poetry book which is of course receiving brilliant reviews.)
Much love to him.
Check him out on facebook and twitter.