So, here's the part where we say we're sorry and place spotlight on our novice knowledge of the business. We sincerely apologize to the people who were the unintentional targets of our errors.
• Married in Puerto Rico by Greg O'Keefe (spring 2007) - Regretably, the wrong version of the story found its way in the final printed stages of our magazine. Here is the the true version which the author intended on readers viewing.
• Laurin DeGroat: Beauty in Bloom by Yolanda Navarra Fleming (spring 2007)- I'm not as smart as I would like to be sometimes. Example: When I think about what I did as editor with the Laurin DeGroat Story, I feel it wasn't the smartest thing I've done. Here's what happened... I chose Laurin for a story because after shooting her portfolio pictures, I got to know her a little. I saw this wonderful young person, very unselfish, kind, and a very "caring for people" quailty about her. You don't meet young people like this every day. Automatically, I thought we'd do a short story in our CLIPS sections of d. I already had great shots to choose for the spread. The story was very simple and at the time I thought it needed more action, more entertainment value or something. So I redid the story and the results were far from satisfying. I guess I was looking for something that wasn't there and what was there, I wasn't seeing. Maybe I was trying too hard. The original idea was fine. It was Laurin. It was d. and the things that d. magazine stands for, so I decided to stick with the original story, realizing that I had been breaking my own rules of keeping it simple. Except in the end, somehow, the wrong version of the story ended up published. Lesson learned. Enjoy the real Laurin.
-Danny Sanchez, Editor-in-Chief
Spring 2007 A word of caution to those of you about to be married: be prepared to answer questions from friends and family that range in scope and creativity from "How did you feel right before you got married?" to "What were you thinking after you got married?". My stock answer often starts with "Oooohhh, look at me! I'm the one who asks clever questions of all my married friends!" and ends with me apologizing to this person for making their children cry. But I like you people better than them- you've earned my trust- so here goes...
Hell if I know what I felt before, what I said during, what we danced to, etc and so on. I remember we were married in Puerto Rico by a white haired priest from Queens. I remember my wife-to-be looked dynamite. And I remember thinking that she would soon be promoted from 'girlfriend' to 'wife' by the guy in the robes behind me. And that I was nervous. It wasn't that I was nervous about making Stella my wife, mind you- I'd made that decision years prior. I think it was the weight the phrase 'my wife' carried with it. Harmless when written down, when spoken aloud it sounds as if it were eternally reserved for middle-aged men with well-combed hair and pleated slacks- or well-combed slacks and pleated hair- I can't say. Then 33, and considered a full grown man by all but a handful of acquaintances, even in practice the phrase flowed from my mouth no more naturally than 'my furrier' or 'my chiropodist'.
At parties in the pink and green wickered sitting rooms favored by the mid-1970's, my father would sometimes introduce my mother to guests as his "first wife". We'd all laugh, of course, because my mother and father had never been divorced- nor married to anyone else for that matter- and we all knew that it's proper etiquette to introduce your previous wives to your guests in reverse chronological order. Were I to try that gag today I'd probably take a Mojito in the face from someone else's wife and wonder silently if it was ever really that funny...but of course I'd try it again at the next party- just to see if a change of venue could give it the spark I'd remembered when my father used it. And it would fail again. Mojito to face. Shrug. Move on.
From the day Stella and I were engaged, I'd become obsessed with discovering interesting ways to work 'this is my wife' into my interactions and correspondence with friends, family, clients, debt collectors, roustabouts, those people at local craft fairs, etc. But although we'd been engaged for over a year prior to our marriage (afterwards would have been inappropriate), I'd never felt comfortable calling Stella 'my fiancee' either. The problem with 'fiancee' is that it sounds too formal to me, like a band should play a familiar award-show theme while our friends clap whitely to every beat as she emerges from behind red velvet curtains. That, and it's really difficult to sound tough when saying 'my fiancee'- and people tell me I sound pretty tough when I talk, so...Stella skipped the fiancee bit and stayed 'my girlfriend' until further notice from the church.
Simple as it sounds, 'my wife' is a phrase you have to grow into- like adult teeth or sweatpants. And in the weeks following our marriage I'd have to remind myself that Stella was now 'my wife'- and not 'my girlfriend'. At the bank, for instance, I would go on about the out-of-the-way restaurant 'my girlfriend' and I had found in Brooklyn- or the bed and breakfast in Vermont...blind to the fact that the gold ring on my finger was as big as Green Lantern's, and that the aghast expression on the tellers' faces had more to do with my being a contemptible cad than the impossibly thoughtful husband the ridiculous grin on my face would imply.
Now happily married for two years, I've managed to work the phrase into daily conversation and observations, and I've come to realize that it's a loaded expression. With a slight change of inflection, it can either pique the attention of any other woman in the room- no doubt in anticipation of "...says the darndest things!", or be met with knowing nods from other married men as an explanation for some hilarious mishap involving a propane tank. It's a phrase used by characters you'd see printed on the side of drink glasses to begin a joke that was much funnier, I'd imagine, in the 50's. It probably made Henny Youngman hundreds of dollars. It's versatile, I'll give it that...but loaded.
So there it is. You're warned. By me. The guy with the wife. Handle the phase with 'kid gloves', find creative ways of working it into your day, and understand this is just the first in a long line of post-martial phrases that come with their own set of rules. And there's no list anywhere- I've asked. You just have to figure it out as you go.
And for those of you who will ask "How do you feel now?". Well, we all know how the old saying goes: "I'd wear a beard of bees for that woman- except I don't look good with a beard." I'm not sure what it means either. But now I sleep better at night knowing I have a partner who will help me uncover these unsung mysteries- and together, with you as our witness- we'll solve this godforsaken puzzle and take on the world as husband and wife.
Spring 2007 By Yolanda Navarra Fleming
Laurin DeGroat, 21, is working with Flaunt Model Management in Manhattan. She recently called on Danny Sanchez to help her develop a portfolio.
“When she first came in she was really shy.” Danny says.Here is our interview…
Have you had training as a model?
“I went to Barbizon but it wasn’t me. I’m more of a tomboy.”
What other aspirations do you have?
“I would love to work for people who are less fortunate. I would also love to be a teacher.”
Who is your role model?
“My mom is a strong, smart, beautiful woman. She is who I admire and strive to be like. My mother and father divorced when I was 3 and since then it’s been she and I through thick and thin. My dad died about four years ago. That was the most difficult time in my life. But, through it all my mom was the one by my side. She was more interested in raising me and being with me than dating. She always said, “Hey, if I meet the right person that’s awesome, but I always have you.”
Where would you like to see yourself as a model?
"W and Vogue have always been my favorites. Of course I would love to see myself in those magazines someday. But right now I’m just working on my portfolio."
