Tag Archives: modeling

Fall In Love With A Not-So-Ordinary Love Story ~ THE VAST LANDSCAPE #Amazon #BookReview

5-STARS Fall In Love With A Not-So-Ordinary Love Story ~ THE VAST LANDSCAPE

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“In this beautifully written novel, Jacqueline Cioffa weaves protagonist Harrison’s lifetime in chapters so artfully crafted they could almost read as standalone prose. Harrison is an original, not-too-soon-be-forgotten character who rejects an ordinary life for a spree across Europe’s capitals as a successful runway model. Her two close friends enable this jet set lifestyle and return years later as lifelong true friends. Cioffa’s scenery, characters, and drama take you on a wild ride through Europe, and a return to the U.S. via seamy Hollywood, Beverly Hills, and then finally to a place of Harrison’s redemption. HIGHLY recommend!”-Reader Review #Amazon

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Waiting on Oprah: Never Quit Your Dreams

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Waiting on Oprah

I close my eyes and can almost see the perfect fairytale life I envisioned in my wildest dreams.

Dear Fantasy (Oprah), “I feel that I am a very fortunate person …”

I was fifteen. Fifteen, gawky, wickedly uncomfortable in my so called ‘model frame.’ Somehow fifteen was the perfect age to concoct wild fantasy adventures and the fastest way out of a stifled, small town. There was a kaleidoscope world waiting for me, exclusively.

Strangers, intoxicating places and new faces I ached to see.

I guess Oprah never received the letter or maybe it got shoved to the bottom pile. There were one billion other worthy dreamers, perhaps more worthy than me. Maybe it got filed away, who’s to say?

I barreled ahead out on my own and concocted the fantastical dream anyway.

I had my picture taken, a lot, wearing expensive, sequined designer gowns. I lived in far away lands. Swam naked in cerulean silk seas with infinite sparkling black diamond sandy beaches. I stood atop glaciers touching the clouds where the landscape was breathtaking white, and the earthly humans invisible below. It was lonely and cold, and I felt nothing but numbness. Decades and decades past, I was stuck bone cold.

I could no longer picture my paralyzed, frozen feet on solid ground. Be mindful, careful, and specific before dreaming.

I woke up. No longer a child, no longer a pretty pawn, no longer me, no longer an identity, just a jumble of misfiring neurons.

I had freedom, for a time. Airplanes, buses, pre-packed duffle bags ready, lavender mister, passport, baby pillow became the two ton heavy, overweight baggage. I could not lighten the load no matter how much stuff I discarded. The heavy barred down on my brain, burrowing deep under my skin.

Change is so excruciatingly difficult when you’re living the dream.

Oprah never told me dreams can shift, that there can be more than just the one.

Or maybe, I wasn’t listening too busy running scared. Maybe I had to live through the dream to get to the here and now. Maybe I grew up, a little. Maybe the dream plain wore out.

Shivering, dizzy from submersing my head in the clouds surrounded by foreign tongues I did not understand, the physical me grew bored and misplaced. I dined on spicy and sweet, savoring cuisines that were taste bud delicious yet soured the stomach.

I was grinding, squirming, picking, pinching awkward, drowning inside the fifteen-year-old expired notion of bliss. I think when one is asking for a dream, one must be specific.

I’m sure being kicked to the curb no longer the prettiest, youngest, skinniest ‘photo op’ of the day did nothing for my already damaged low self-esteem and defunct, busted aspirations.

My life has been filled with love. Looking back and forward, my life has been filled with love.

That must be the first thing I cling to while reminiscing. My life has been filled with heart swelling, shattering, terrifying, emotional, easy breezy, destructive, goose-bump alive love.

The heart is a muscle it cannot possibly feel yet it does. Bizarre but so blazing sun, crescent moon, silly stars, perpetual movement sea elements comforting.

I am loved; even on the days I forget how to love myself.

It has not been easy, my middle, it’s been split open, fractured; please God let me end the crucifying. That, and all that mess that is my life are for a different tale. Perhaps when we have a little more time.

I’m back home now. I’m not fifteen anymore. My dreams are simpler, quieter, not half the screaming loud as before. Home, that’s what I’d been missing all along. Not the physical dwelling perhaps, although that helps joggle the mind.

Sensory memory.

The giddy anticipation of my mother’s White Shoulder’s perfume, her lips brushing against my forehead, the charms on her bracelet jingling and dancing on her wrist. Giddy elation alive.

“Go to sleep, sweet child of mine.”

I’d pretend sleep, twisting and squirming awaiting her return. Back from a well deserved evening out way past midnight to stroke my hair in the dark. I was sugary five not smart mouth saccharine EMO fifteen, not biting sarcastic know it all twenty, not disillusioned complacent crazed thirty, not even bitter shattered fragmented forty.

I was five.

I was living the dream.

Dear Oprah, “it’s okay.”

I think I’d like to give this living thing a shot, keep the next dream nestled close.

Readily accessible in my front not back pocket.

Dreams change.

And me, I am transitioning.

I’m not waiting on Oprah, not this time.

This dream is waiting on me.

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FREE Kindle #THEVASTLANDSCAPE, Poignant Romance Series, 3-Days Only! #romance @makeupmodelciti 5-star reviews!

SATURDAY NIGHT’S HOT TICKET #SyrFWSpring2015

Syracuse Fashion Week 2015 is in high gear.

Join me along with other illustrious guests for a fun, glam evening at the Landmark Gala, April 11th, 2015.

BOOK SIGNING BY JACQUELINE CIOFFA AUTHOR OF THE VAST LANDSCAPE

I know where I’ll be kicking up my heels this Saturday, how ’bout you?

Portion of the proceeds to benefit The Food Bank of CNY, come out and support your local Community.

“The Vast Landscape” Model Fiction

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Portion of the Proceeds To Benefit THE FOOD BANK of CNY

http://syracusefashionweek.net

http://www.foodbankcny.org

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CLICK the Link for SYRACUSE FASHION WEEK Spring 2015 Events Calendar

http://syracusefashionweek.net/events-schedule/syracuse-style/

http://www.syracuse.com/entertainment/index.ssf/2015/01/model_turns_international_experiences_into_fiction_central_new_york_books_and_au.html

Jackie Cioffa's Article
-excerpt THE VAST LANDSCAPE SyrFWSpring2015 LookBook

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‘Book Signing By Jacqueline Cioffa Author of The Vast Landscape’ Landmark Gala

Yay fashionistas, “The Vast Landscape” Book Signing, Empire Brewing Co and Smoke Inc BBQ. sounds like a glam delish evening.

@SyrFashionWk

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Stick to the basics with an edge

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I hate shopping. Clothes shopping.

I’ve been living in sweats and jeans the last five years, shopping hasn’t been a high priority.

Writing does not require Couture, PJs are just fine and acceptable. Authors apparently require a bit more expansive wardrobe.

Being invited to the Landmark Gala during Syracuse Fashion Week 2015 as a guest author of “The Vast Landscape” deserves some glam effort.

So I went shopping and came back with nada, the perks of living in NYC were missed today.

When choosing something gala worthy I find sleek lines are best and black is minimalist, modern cool.

Stick to the basics with an edge. Guaranteed this biker chick won’t be wearing a dress.

And always be comfortable in your skin, preferably exposing just the right amount of it.

Modeling was my job where talented stylists threw fabu’ designer clothes on me.

Today I’m in control, it feels liberating and grown up.

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http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00H3P51LS

https://www.facebook.com/Syracusefashionweek

http://www.peterlindbergh.com

cropped-40.jpgJackie Cioffa's Article

Every Little Thing Matters

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For those of you that don’t know me and most don’t, I led a privileged life for many, many years. Traveled to exotic locales on somebody else’s dime lived in Paris, Milan, London, Barcelona, Madrid, Cape Town, Miami, Hollywood, NYC… I was a fashion model who earned a living with her looks.

The bizarre, crazy existence was the difficult lifestyle to explain. It was a job with bonanza benefits. I never took myself too seriously.

When my fashion career was over I had to reinvent myself. Makeup artist, why not? Started at ten bucks an hour and worked my way up counting Mariah Carey, Anne Hathaway, Sandra Bernhard, Connie Britton as clients. I had connections, and lots of help. Again, I didn’t take myself seriously. I knew how to coddle the celebs, after all I’d been on the their side for years.

My spirit was unsatisfied, intuition nagged this wasn’t it. This wasn’t what your supposed to be doing.

I can’t say the precise second, the exact hour my mind blew. It was a rapid, out of nowhere burn.

When something serious happens to your health something so surreal and uncertain you dig, claw, and dig deeper. You fight. There’s a cosmic shift. Something changes in your core on a molecular level.

Nothing is ever trivial again, coasting is not allowed and everything about you feels strange. You’re different.

I found my way back, returned to my old life. It was fine for a time. Mediocre, but fine. The next break would not let me be the drifter, laid back traveler, not this time. Nope, I had to work hard. This time, I was the paradigm shell.

I had to shed the old, and let her go.

Brutal leaving your identity, friends, city, what you know, the familiar, your favorite pizza joint behind. It can be brutal or it can be something different.

It didn’t matter, I learned. I understood other stuff mattered more; family, well-being, sanity, gardening, solitude, writing, walking the dog. Basics became survival tools.

The voices nagged. You better get your shit together. Don’t fuck up. You’ve got one chance to do something good, something beautiful, something true, something with purpose.

I have always been a writer. It’s my DNA, in my marrow, my blood, my heart and my brain.

The words have always been there.

I wasn’t listening. I just wasn’t listening to them.

A book signing at the Landmark Gala during Syracuse Fashion Week is my life come demi-circle.

The irony is not lost on me.

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The Vast Landscape follows the “brash, vulnerable, raw Harrison in pursuit of ‘movie star’ dreams navigating her way through the painful and the beautiful. It is more than just an incredible love-story.”

Most days life kicks you in the ass and you do your best to manage.

Sometimes, indigo sky sunshine and karma throws flecks of silver star-dust your way.

When you lead from the heart, those are the best days.

Every little thing matters.

You can’t know when the stardust might shine.

I’m prettier today, inside out.

Jackie Cioffa's Article

“When writing the story of your life, don’t let anyone else hold the pen.” Harley Davidson

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