It is time for a new profile pic. I'll tell you the reason in a moment. I saw the photo on the left in a magazine and decided this was a look worth copying. 

Renn, my most trusted photographer, said, "No, I don't think this is going to work." 

"But I'm a sexy laaady," I said. 

So we tried it. Renn is so good to me. Right up there with my husband whose acquiescence rate is nearly 100%. 

And of course, the results are deeply disappointing. Not Trump-is-President disappointing but the discrepancy between the Euro-sophisto-beotch on the left and me on the right is shocking. I look older. I look extremely uncomfortable. I couldn't bend my knee at the degree that hers is bent. And that was my good knee. Her smoky eyes vs. my nerdy glasses. Her neck vs. my non-neck that's wrinkly even though it's not a neck. She looks chill. I look pissed off. I am pissed off. I couldn't bend my knee, and that's the good knee.

So then Renn took pity on me and asked what I was trying to achieve with this pose.

"Insouciance and louche informality," I said.

"Why?" asked Renn.

"Because I hate profile pics," I said. "This is my way of thumbing my nose at everything artificial."

And then, predictably, I rejected the raw insouciant pic and posed for a new one. This time with better light and make-up. And we shot it at my desk because of my exciting news: I am now a paid professional writer. Yes, I'm so pleased to say that I have a couple of freelance writing clients who are giving me a byline and a profile pic. My old wrinkly neck will be bent over my keyboard as I peck away to earn my keep. 

Photos by Renn Kuhnen.

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