Model Vanessa Veasley Explains Her 'Supreme' Aftershock
Until now I've played it pretty safe. I've turned down certain shoots, videos and magazines out of fear of how the finished product would be received. It's pretty common. All creatives master the art of pretending not to care what others think, but industry and fan reaction effect our demand. So while occasional hateful comments are easy to overlook, even welcomed, we all dread the mass rejection of a project. Compound that with a relatively conservative family, and goals that extend beyond the urban/vixen realm; it's a fact that fear has driven my decisions much more that I had ever cared to admit.
When I was told I had been submitted for the legendary streetwear apparel brand Supreme Book Vol. 6, I giggled. I thought, "There's no way they'd pick me..., and if they did there's no way I'd do it." I was familiar with photographer Terry Richardson's work and am a big fan of his. I've shot my share of scantily clad glossy images, but Terry's work is raw, barely retouched and overtly sexual with reoccurring oral fixation references. His collabs with Supreme are risqué on steroids, certainly not the type of shoot you do if you're trying to please everyone and keep multiple career paths in entertainment open right?
The more I thought about the possibility of being selected however, I realized how much I actually wanted it. The only reasons why I would say no had nothing to do with me.
Then it happened. They booked me.
The magnitude of being the curviest, darkest, woman to lean against that infamous white wall for the lifestyle brand and retailer didn't even set in during the shoot. The Richardson and Supreme crews were professional and upbeat. It didn't feel much different from past gigs with the exception of meeting artist Cyprien Gaillard [swoon], and a quick silent thumbs up from the reps visiting from Japan.
Fast forward to me waking up the other morning to a full inbox, hundreds of new Twitter followers and a 48 second behind-the-scenes video circulating the web so steamy it was being yanked from YouTube faster than the blogs could put it up.
I waited for the finger wags and they didn't come. A part of me had been so mentally prepared to defend this campaign, I wasn't prepared for the praise. Is it a win for a Black woman to squat on a football wearing fishing line for a global counterculture brand? That's debatable. The images are dope to me, but it's my personal win because I did something I wanted for my reasons. I stepped out of my safe zone and now have something in common with Kermit the Frog.