How Would You Describe Yourself?

by Leandra Medine
November 15, 2013
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Cara-Lily-goelia

Have you ever noticed that celebrity interviews tend to begin with the writer waxing poetic on each minute detail of his or her subject’s every moment, like a gratuitous play by play that’s either intended to endear us to the celeb or make us feel like we’re on the scene?

“Amelia sat with her upper body still, chewing the cuticle around her thumb and bouncing her knee, exposing that she possibly has Restless Leg Syndrome or drank too much coffee but either way she was clearly oblivious to the epileptic inducing effect the rapid bouncy movement had in the surrounding customer’s peripheral vision.”

If the writer was intending to write a nice piece about me, they may mention the way in which I brushed a lock of hair behind my ear and then set my liquid blue eyes on a point in the distance before slowly beginning the story of my heart-wrenching divorce.

Let’s write one about Leandra for fun:

“Leandra sat, shoulders rounded, like a cat considering its stock market portfolio which is to say, not considering much at all. In her right hand rested her cell phone, lighting up and blinking and vibrating as she rapid-fire responded using just her thumb. Upon second glance I realized her pinky finger had evolved into some sort of bionic bar that serves as a resting place for her mobile device. Fascinating. Her left hand never left her brow, crunching and picking at the different hairs, all the while laughing manically and making this weird squeaking noise (where on earth was it coming from?!) that suggested she may, in fact, be part chew toy.”

Moving on.

In a recent Rolling Stones article, Lena Dunham interviewed Mindy Kaling and asked her to describer herself in this exact format:

“How would you describe your fashion style? Please answer in the form of the first paragraph of [a] … profile that, while not 100 percent accurate, embodies the things you strive for in your wardrobe and your beauty regimen. “

To which Mindy Kaling replied:

“When Mindy Kaling arrived to the Chateau Marmont 30 minutes late, she apologized profusely and began dabbing ice water on a badly skinned knee. ‘I thought I hit an old woman in the Loehmann’s parking lot,’ she said, a flush of perspiration on her cheeks and forehead. ‘Turned out it was a sack of trash with a shawl draped on it. Got so mad at it that I kicked it, and this happened.’ She gestured to her knee.

“Miss Kaling ushered in a scent that was a curious mix of cardamom, citrus, and Old Spice Pure Sport. Without looking at the menu, she ordered a Moscow Mule, the steak and fries with five mini bottles of Tabasco sauce. Her shirt was Ikat print, and her harem pants were tribal print. She had neon pink high tops she promptly took off. ‘You don’t mind, do you? It’s a hell of a lot of shoe for a summer’s day,’ she purred. I did mind. I minded a lot.”

Now it’s your turn. Go forth, young reporters, and write a description of your style and self in the format of the opening paragraph of a celebrity interview. Lay them down in the comments and let’s spend the rest of our day just laughing and writing, writing and laughing.

– Amelia Diamond

Image via Goelia Winter 2012 look book

REPLIES
  • Laura Mitchell

    I’ve always wanted to be called “lithe.” Not sure where that came from or why?

  • Ivana Džidić

    I haven’t read that many celeb interviews, but you sure have that pattern right, those that I have read- they sure them write them exactly like that.

  • http://www.downtownhautefashion.blogspot.com/ Leslie

    I totally noticed it and thought it just became a standard in reporting.

    Leslie feverishly typed away at her keyboard with leopard-like grace chewing on her Bic pen in the most girliest of manners while rocking a cardigan in the prettiest of grays.

  • Sara Keller

    Mindy Kaling is so awesome.

  • a.n.a.l.u

    God bless the writers. Without them the real descriptions must be pathetic.

    LAZYCATSTYLE

  • Juliet

    wow so dead on! I will now be thankful for the writers who can make the story sound sooo good, instead of how I normally feel, which is just so eye-rolling-sick of how amazing this said celebrity is and how glamorous they are for how they ordered without looking at the menu. thank you writers!

  • http://Womantoanother.com Nikell

    Ha! I always think “what is this… a novel!?” (^_^)

  • http://alcessa.wordpress.com/ alcessa

    Even though I have decided not to, I am a bit scared: It is a funny old lady I am going to meet right now, but then, I have met many before. I guess what scares me a bit is that alcessa is a self-professed short-nails-no-decoration-I-am-German frumpy grumpy, who also tends to skip her make up routine and her mascara duty. “I put on make up only to show respect to certain persons and this must be your lucky day,” she tells me straight away upon arriving. Can she read my mind? Her mascara technique could be called “inventive”, maybe “erratic”, by all means: I wonder whether there’s a message behind it? I can clearly discern a small letter “c” underneath her left eye, at least I think so. She is a words junkie, too, so that would be logical. But what does it mean, c … c … -never mind. We order kale and beer and talk about Life, the Universe and all the Fish. It’s quite funny how her antlers will shake when she’s laughing. “So how do you put that cap over your antlers?” Alas, I must have been too sure the old Hägar the Horrible would make her laugh. It doesn’t.

    • Amelia Diamond

      “Her mascara technique could be called ‘inventive’, maybe ‘erratic'” hahahaha

  • Naomi Jonker

    Wow, i love this article and you blog also!

    Oh and i am following your blog on bloglovin now!

    Do you wanna follow me to? That would be awesome!

    Lots of love,

    Naomi | http://www.naomijonker.blogspot.com

  • thegreatcatsbee

    With her bold solid persimmon colored shirt, Yessery Morales didn’t seem like the sort to dabble in things, but here she was—dabbling away at the small drop of water on the pure chrysanthemum white tablecloth. “I’m so sorry,” she said effusively, “I’d say I wasn’t normally this clumsy, but that’d be lying.” She punctuated the end of that statement with a laugh, with the type of manner only seen in young bright things like Jennifer Lawrence, but with the expressive eyebrows of Lily Collins. She raised her eyebrows then, as if caught in a thought like a thinking person might be, and continued melodically, “Wait!” She waited. I waited. “Are you my stalker?” Her brows furrowed. I took a photo of her eyebrows and her face to add to my collage of her in my guest bedroom (there was no leftover room what with all the James Franco circa Flyboys movie shots). My brows furrowed as well. She seemed like an enigma, like the last of the British roses, but more like the last of the Californian poppies.

  • Andrew

    As he walks downstairs, his father looks at his new Givenchy short sleeve button down white shirt, purchased greatly reduced on Yoox, with a lackluster supportive smile. “Nice shirt. Needs to be ironed. Did you get that on sale?” he asks.

  • Amelie

    This is one of my favorite posts, ever. I love the question that you point out at the end, though I must say, I’ll have to think about it!

    The Neon Guava

    http://theneonguava.wordpress.com

    The Neon Guava

    http://theneonguava.wordpress.com

  • Minh Ai

    Minh Ai graciously seated her denim short clad buttocks upon the hotel’s velvet lined upholstery. The upper half of her torso was adorned with a crisp, silk pajama blouse, her initials carefully embroidered on, just above the top left pocket. Just a minor precauation should she manage to lose her top in a night of frisky business, this writer assumes. She surreptitiously swallowed a large dose of saliva towards the back or her oesophagus, hoping this would hide the famished state of hunger. Her eyes darted rapidly between the mouth-watering options on the menu, before placing her delicately manicured index finger on the image of the devilishly naughty pan-fried waffles. “Yes, I shall have those,” she announced dramatically. The gusto with which she spoke these words was akin to that of a royal. Regal, sophisticated and perenially effortless.

  • The a Hipster Housewife

    I watched Christine walk in from across the long length of the restaurant, her Amazonian height making her an easy spot above the heads of the oblivious diners (all of whom turned to stare at the 6 foot 1 inch, platinum pixie cut, warrior princess making her way towards me). It happens every where I go, she says, enfolding my petite, sweaty hand in her much larger, paint splattered one. Firm handshake. I’m tempted to say ‘for a woman’, but it doesn’t seem appropriate. She is so obviously female and so dangerously androgynous in her skinny moto pants/jacket/boot ‘model off duty’ look which on her ridiculously long, lean frame comes across as completely brand new. I think it’s the way she carries herself. Like an actual Amazon. I suddenly feel very silly in my 5 inch stilettos, and very far from the sky.

    • Amelia Diamond

      hello awesome sentence: I suddenly feel very silly in my 5 inch stilettos, and very far from the sky.

      • The a Hipster Housewife

        Thanks love xx

  • erica

    On an uncharacteristically cloudy afternoon in Los Angeles, Erica Smith briskly walks up the stairs of Urth Caffe in the Arts District, the hem of her short shift dress flirtaciously flapping at her upper thigh as she nears her open seat. “I think I’ll keep these on anyway,” she smiles as she readjusts the pair of Ray Ban Clubmasters slipping down her cheeks; lenses reflecting the clouds gatherting above the outdoor patio. “Just to be safe.”

    Out of politeness, she pretends to skim the laminated menu — one the 24-year-old Angeleno clearly long had memorized — before ordering a Caffe Granita with all the coolness of a modern day Sloane Peterson. “Strong,” she quickly adds, before the waiter can even suggest mild espresso. “My caffeine tolerance is at an all time high,” she admits to me in a half ashamed, half excited tone telling of an “it’s complicated” relationship involving torrid short-term breakups and even longer bouts of getting back together. Something tells me all her drama lies with dark roasts and double cappuccinos, moreso than with the Ferris in her life.

    • Amelia Diamond

      #nailedit

  • Elisa Taviti

    Great!!

    Elisa – My Fantabulous World

  • melodynelson

    Today in this beautiful London hotel, Melody, as fresh as rose is laughing loud when she appears at the door of the elevator. obviously we think, this girl is a happy young actress. Just one look at her and we are able to think she had had a romantic date just 2 hours before the interview. She confirms “yeah I met Hugh Grant and he bought me some nice cashmere socks ” we stare at her with surprise : socks ? “yeah and this socks a ring was hidden”. (etc etc etc etc ….)
    Melody, always full of surprises.

  • Miranda Babbitt

    This is the type of thing I would normally never participate in, but hey, I’m anonymous on the internet, aren’t I?!? (Falser words have never been said.)

    Unrealistically, this is how I would love my fashion sense to be seen.
    She always orders the same damn thing this girl. “One tall, skinny, caramel macchiato.” From my spot in the corner, I can take in the most intriguing of creatures. For example, I see this young woman enter through the doors with the same disheveled bun, nearly military size parka, and combat boots nearly four times a week. Don’t ask me why it’s the same time as my usual bout of coffee. Our class schedules must be creepily identical. Regardless, I’ve never understood how she could be so breathless all the time. What does she do – sprint here? With that parka, I wouldn’t be surprised. Her blouses always make it seem as though she’s secretly yearning to be strolling through the library aisles of Oxford though. Patterned foxes, big blossoms, or even an aggressively neon orange should always be expected.
    But the only thing I should really be sure of is that drink of hers. One day I’ll take it when the barista calls her name… what even is it? Now I’m creepy.

  • Sana Shaikh

    Ha ha! This is interesting! Giving me a chance to channel my inner narcissist! :D
    The following is what I could come up with:

    Sashaying down the lobby, oblivious to the many eyes that
    follow her gait, Sana doesn’t look one bit like the lady who makes headlines with
    the cryptic statements that are her signature. Recently topping a poll for the ‘Most
    Sought After Waist’ and winning accolades for her portrayal of the convoluted
    character, ‘Nina’ on ABC’s high octane sci-fi drama ‘Discovery’, she’s one of
    the few lot whose still got their feet on the ground. Donning a blue dress that
    hugs her petite frame, her gaze rests longer than usual on the painted version
    of Auguste Rodin’s ‘The Kiss’ that is placed near the huge exotic centerpiece. This
    being my third interview with her, we share a relaxed camaraderie as is evident
    by the smile that lights up her face as she greets me with a hug. “Hey,”
    she chimes.

    “Always a pleasure to talk to you. You’re so
    insightful,” I tell her.

    “It always surprises me when people think that! That is
    one messed up fruitcake, my friend!”
    she laughs pointing her finger to her head.

  • Brie

    Brie sat at work, in the early morning rays of light, deciding to either do her work, which truth be told could wait till after her morning poop, or to keep reading this book for the fifth time. she picked at her stringy blonde hair, wondering “should i have taken a shower last night?”. finally deciding on a couple minutes of pinterest food browsing she pulled up her black knee high boots and grabbed another cup of coffee.

  • Life Sucks In A Strapless Bra
  • LexoRexo

    This is about Oscar but one day, I shall use it for me: “When I arrive at 2:30 on a weekday afternoon in late September, de la Renta is sitting at a round table near the window, finishing up a delicious-looking repast. There is a box of figs as well as bottles of olive oil and balsamic vinegar on the table, and the mozzarella and tomatoes on his plate glisten with a farmer’s-market freshness. “I never go out for lunch,” he announces, and offers me a drink made of turmeric. Earlier in the day, de la Renta tells me, he attended a global initiative on behalf of elephants, which is a pet cause of his wife, socialite and philanthropist Annette; the Clintons and Kissingers were among those attending.”
    Read more: Oscar de la Renta Profile – Oscar de la Renta Interview – ELLE