When I was young, the woman of my dreams was tall and slender, and certainly not an intellectual. In fact, someone the exact opposite of my mother. (Sigmund Freud wouldn’t be surprised.) So the world of fashion was a kind of Promised Land where every model I photographed seemed to have come from the same mold. Alas, they were covered in dresses, coats, hats and other junk rarely to my taste. But that’s what they were paid to wear and that’s what I was paid to shoot.
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