The glamor shot was gorgeous; hair swept away in the wind, lighting enhancing their facial features to the sharpest angles. Too bad no one would see it. The camera fell to the floor, the model dead.
In this century, glamour is ruling the cinema industry. For one to be an actress, this is the most essential criteria.
priynaka siriguppa
Many celebrities think that glamour is the most important thing. I think it’s more important for celebrities to show people, but especially kids, that having good character is the most important aspect of being famous. How would it change our world for kids to have positive role models based on character rather than glamour?
Angela Foley
He was shocked at her ravaged face, completely devoid of product or life or even a shred of happiness. She used to be different — red and gold and vibrance that reached out and caught anyone who looked at her, even from an angle. But now, the glamour was gone, replaced by purples and blues of healing bruises. And with sadness, he remembered what she was like, before him.
Glamour is something I don’t care anything about. I don’t like flashy things or worry about glamour. I like things that are simple so glamour is not something that I can a
Tammy
The reflection in the mirror was anything but glamour. Grabbing a scarf and tying around her neck. She thought the pink and blue stripes would add a bit of flair to her suit. It had been ten yers since her last job interview. Looking one more time in the mirror, a tear started rolling down her cheek. Grabbing a tissue from her counter top she wiped her leaky eyes with care. The last thing she wanted was to really her make up or worse show up with raccoon eyes.
Thinking back, she wondered, where did all her confidence go? Intimidation was sitting in her gut. She felt like her breakfast was going to come up. She forgot that she never ate before interviews. Her nerves always got the best of her.
Glancing down at the counter she noticed a piece of paper, the size of a note care. Written on it in big bold red, Brave, Bold, Beautiful You! A card she had been carrying for over 15 years. A friend of hers had given it to her on a wommen’s retreat. It must have fallen out of her bag. No accident, not a coincidence, no a Devine message at just the right moment.
She grabbed the card, looked up at the mirror staring at herself she read the card out loud adding and I. “I am Brave, I am Bold, I am Beautiful.” She might not have believed it about herself, yet she knew her friend would not lie. She held the card up to her heart. Whispering a prayer of gratitude and received the words. All three, a reminder of who she was.
It dawned on her that glamour was not about how she looked. Glamour was about how she felt, and her thoughts could create those feelings. She also realized that if she cut the word in half she would get our. Our she thought was what she felt about our Three Sisters. The Marco Polo group she belonged to. Our group made her believe she was Brave, Bold and Beautiful. She knew she could stop into that interview feeling like she was a woman of glamour. Not becasue of how she looked. No, it was how she felt. A change of mind, three big words and a sisterhood helped her believe inn herself.
One last look in the mirror. She smiled back and said, “you can do this beautiful.” Giggling as she turned away. She grabbed her car keys, briefcase and purse and left for her interview knowing that thanks to her Our she could step into glamour and be the one the chose to join the newest tech company in tow.
Glamour is something being shiny or fancy. i.e.: I like glamourous things.
Marvin Hoffmaster
I have always looked in awe of people with glamour and I always thought that I did not look like them.It took me few years to come out of it and feel glamorous !
Vincy Mathew
She felt like a million bucks. Or more accurately like about $1300. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was like she had never seen herself before this moment. She blinked, just to confirm that it was her. It was. That was all her. “Oh wow,” she intoned, not really conscious of her mouth moving.
I think of fashionistas on Instagram with their red juicy pouty lips and clean snow white teeth and black shady sunglasses and fake smiles. That’s so mean. Maybe their smiles aren’t fake, lol.
Tami Ceballos
Her face was exactly what you’d expect. Shiny, sparkly, full of life. Underneath, the scars of age, the pitted acne pockets that come from bad food, too much drink and decades of chain smoking. What you see isn’t always what you get, especially when you lay down with a corpse.
J.D. McKay
this girl had some bad glamour.
wright
It’s a blessing, likely, that my feelings for you have faded. You came up in an era where the boss-fox always snapped up the glamour hedgehog, and it was criminal but ignored. You would never do that, not in a million years, and I’m thankful. But wistful, too. My feelings may be the dimmest they’ve ever been, my romantic anxieties wrung out in other directions, but there remains a whisper in my blood. A whisper that says, if only you weren’t afraid, and you waited for our paths to intersect…
Fox Hedgehog
When I think of glamour, I think of the fad in the ’80s of having your Glamour Shots” made. They had studios in the malls and people would go in and they would get glammed up. I never did that, that sort of thing never did appeal to me at all. I guess it’s not my thing. I am supposed to keep writing but I don’t know what to says.
Becky Perry
She was.
She really was.
Very very.
Glamorous.
I thought she was a movie star when she walked up to me in the restaurant.
She stopped at my table, and smiled.
May I ask you a favour? she said.
I looked up at her and thought, wow.
jack
Opulence and dreams. Beauty to be seen. Champagne flowing and butterfly kisses. Glamour and amor. You shine like a diamond.
Lexi
It was such a beautiful dress that it seemed to elevate her from lovely to divine. It’s not just that the material clung to her curves perfectly or that she shimmered as she walked; it’s that the sense of style was so complete.
Pamela
Bitch so glamorous, I feel like a glitter-studded Starbucks latte, ya man is my bitch, I am a strong independent black woman who etc. I am a goddess. I explode with the force of a thousand suns. Weeeee black -eole
The
What will it take for me to mirror those on the covers, little screens society looks into for guidance and acceptance. Will a size 10+ ever be accepted? Or will I spend the rest of my seconds trying to prove I’m worthy of existence?
Katie
Take a swizzlestick to that sweet liqueur shot of glamour, and stir as hard as you can until the bubbles spread. Then, you can use pearls as a chaser, lace gloves puckering around the wrists, as your socialite friends swallow larger and sharper gemstones. Soon, they’ll be living treasure caves, and they will drink, drink, drink.
Belinda Roddie
She sits on the curb and the rain is the sequins on her coat. It’s her lip gloss, her hair gel. There is no mascara to run, but there are freckles to muddle. Dimples to fill. It makes her fingernails shimmer and her complexion glow. It flashes in the streetlights. It sparkles in the low-hanging blood-coloured sun. But it’s nothing compared to her eyes.
The glamor shot was gorgeous; hair swept away in the wind, lighting enhancing their facial features to the sharpest angles. Too bad no one would see it. The camera fell to the floor, the model dead.
In this century, glamour is ruling the cinema industry. For one to be an actress, this is the most essential criteria.
Many celebrities think that glamour is the most important thing. I think it’s more important for celebrities to show people, but especially kids, that having good character is the most important aspect of being famous. How would it change our world for kids to have positive role models based on character rather than glamour?
He was shocked at her ravaged face, completely devoid of product or life or even a shred of happiness. She used to be different — red and gold and vibrance that reached out and caught anyone who looked at her, even from an angle. But now, the glamour was gone, replaced by purples and blues of healing bruises. And with sadness, he remembered what she was like, before him.
Glamour is something I don’t care anything about. I don’t like flashy things or worry about glamour. I like things that are simple so glamour is not something that I can a
The reflection in the mirror was anything but glamour. Grabbing a scarf and tying around her neck. She thought the pink and blue stripes would add a bit of flair to her suit. It had been ten yers since her last job interview. Looking one more time in the mirror, a tear started rolling down her cheek. Grabbing a tissue from her counter top she wiped her leaky eyes with care. The last thing she wanted was to really her make up or worse show up with raccoon eyes.
Thinking back, she wondered, where did all her confidence go? Intimidation was sitting in her gut. She felt like her breakfast was going to come up. She forgot that she never ate before interviews. Her nerves always got the best of her.
Glancing down at the counter she noticed a piece of paper, the size of a note care. Written on it in big bold red, Brave, Bold, Beautiful You! A card she had been carrying for over 15 years. A friend of hers had given it to her on a wommen’s retreat. It must have fallen out of her bag. No accident, not a coincidence, no a Devine message at just the right moment.
She grabbed the card, looked up at the mirror staring at herself she read the card out loud adding and I. “I am Brave, I am Bold, I am Beautiful.” She might not have believed it about herself, yet she knew her friend would not lie. She held the card up to her heart. Whispering a prayer of gratitude and received the words. All three, a reminder of who she was.
It dawned on her that glamour was not about how she looked. Glamour was about how she felt, and her thoughts could create those feelings. She also realized that if she cut the word in half she would get our. Our she thought was what she felt about our Three Sisters. The Marco Polo group she belonged to. Our group made her believe she was Brave, Bold and Beautiful. She knew she could stop into that interview feeling like she was a woman of glamour. Not becasue of how she looked. No, it was how she felt. A change of mind, three big words and a sisterhood helped her believe inn herself.
One last look in the mirror. She smiled back and said, “you can do this beautiful.” Giggling as she turned away. She grabbed her car keys, briefcase and purse and left for her interview knowing that thanks to her Our she could step into glamour and be the one the chose to join the newest tech company in tow.
Glamour is something being shiny or fancy. i.e.: I like glamourous things.
I have always looked in awe of people with glamour and I always thought that I did not look like them.It took me few years to come out of it and feel glamorous !
She felt like a million bucks. Or more accurately like about $1300. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. It was like she had never seen herself before this moment. She blinked, just to confirm that it was her. It was. That was all her. “Oh wow,” she intoned, not really conscious of her mouth moving.
I think of fashionistas on Instagram with their red juicy pouty lips and clean snow white teeth and black shady sunglasses and fake smiles. That’s so mean. Maybe their smiles aren’t fake, lol.
Her face was exactly what you’d expect. Shiny, sparkly, full of life. Underneath, the scars of age, the pitted acne pockets that come from bad food, too much drink and decades of chain smoking. What you see isn’t always what you get, especially when you lay down with a corpse.
this girl had some bad glamour.
It’s a blessing, likely, that my feelings for you have faded. You came up in an era where the boss-fox always snapped up the glamour hedgehog, and it was criminal but ignored. You would never do that, not in a million years, and I’m thankful. But wistful, too. My feelings may be the dimmest they’ve ever been, my romantic anxieties wrung out in other directions, but there remains a whisper in my blood. A whisper that says, if only you weren’t afraid, and you waited for our paths to intersect…
When I think of glamour, I think of the fad in the ’80s of having your Glamour Shots” made. They had studios in the malls and people would go in and they would get glammed up. I never did that, that sort of thing never did appeal to me at all. I guess it’s not my thing. I am supposed to keep writing but I don’t know what to says.
She was.
She really was.
Very very.
Glamorous.
I thought she was a movie star when she walked up to me in the restaurant.
She stopped at my table, and smiled.
May I ask you a favour? she said.
I looked up at her and thought, wow.
Opulence and dreams. Beauty to be seen. Champagne flowing and butterfly kisses. Glamour and amor. You shine like a diamond.
It was such a beautiful dress that it seemed to elevate her from lovely to divine. It’s not just that the material clung to her curves perfectly or that she shimmered as she walked; it’s that the sense of style was so complete.
Bitch so glamorous, I feel like a glitter-studded Starbucks latte, ya man is my bitch, I am a strong independent black woman who etc. I am a goddess. I explode with the force of a thousand suns. Weeeee black -eole
What will it take for me to mirror those on the covers, little screens society looks into for guidance and acceptance. Will a size 10+ ever be accepted? Or will I spend the rest of my seconds trying to prove I’m worthy of existence?
Take a swizzlestick to that sweet liqueur shot of glamour, and stir as hard as you can until the bubbles spread. Then, you can use pearls as a chaser, lace gloves puckering around the wrists, as your socialite friends swallow larger and sharper gemstones. Soon, they’ll be living treasure caves, and they will drink, drink, drink.
She sits on the curb and the rain is the sequins on her coat. It’s her lip gloss, her hair gel. There is no mascara to run, but there are freckles to muddle. Dimples to fill. It makes her fingernails shimmer and her complexion glow. It flashes in the streetlights. It sparkles in the low-hanging blood-coloured sun. But it’s nothing compared to her eyes.