Fashion Models + My Love

The Beginning

It was the Fall of 1983.

The evening was cold, the air was crisp and the night and all of its wonders, offered hope. But the mood of the girl was dismal.

It had been a loud party. It had started out hopeful for the girl, but ended in heartbreak and sadness. She did her best to make the boy love her, but it was not meant to be.

The following evening would be a distraction - a night out with her girlfriend to hopefully improve her mood and help to encourage her onto a new path in her life. Country music might do that. Dancing might just do that. Cowboys, in every direction - had definite potential - to do that.

And so ... they arrived at the dance hall in dresses. Not the usual country attire, but a tactic the girl's friend suggested might aid the girls in standing out amongst the crowds. The girl chose a teal colored, calf length dress with a belt at the waist, buttons down the front and flair skirt. And oh-so-high-heels to match.

The night would start out solemnly, even with all of its potential. The music stimulated the girl's senses, as did the voices and faces that filled the room. The lighting was dim and yet sparkly and the hall was dense with bodies clinging to each other, on and off the dance floor. Figures brushing close. Eyes searching and hands touching. Drinks and voices mingling. Words and melodies floating above the crowds on a cloud of smoke. The girl became easily lulled into the lyrical world of rhythms and beats and pulses. Of feeling smothered and yet the distinct sensation of overwhelming life. It was ... a welcome relief.

It would take a while, but when it happened, it was magical. It was not expected or planned. It was not predictable. It was nothing more than ... a moment.

"Would you like to dance?" the boy asked, leaning in close to the girl's ear.

She could smell the beer on his breath and feel the warmth of his body, as he was pushed up against her by the force of the crowd. He smiled. He stood tall and proud in his crisp, western shirt and worn, black hat. He was striking to look at. She immediately noticed his large, confident smile. She immediately felt ... his warmth.

"I'm not much of a dancer," she said coyly, imagining that once she uttered the words, he would turn and vanish back into the crowds. But he stood firm.

"Come on," he put his hand on her arm, sat his beer on the bar, "Dance with me."

She stood, nervously. He took her hand. She felt his strength as she walked behind him. She liked that he was out in front, leading her. That he had taken control of her. She liked that he was clearing her path - a new path. All she could see was his stature. She noticed his Wranglers and his plaid shirt. She wanted to reach out and touch him. She felt her heart begin to race. Her eyes scanned the faces in the crowds and yet all she could see was his dark black hat and his figure out in front of her. She felt frightened and excited and lost. She felt the power of his hand in hers. She was very aware that she was following him and she was content to linger in his shadow.

They reached the edge of the dance floor. He turned to her; tall and hansom and confident. He placed his free hand on her waist ... and pulled her to him. She looked up into his eyes; so blue and clear and certain. He smiled. She sensed his happiness and it made her smile as well.

The girl was swept away. Taken into the arms of a stranger and together they glided to the music and across the floor. Through the crowds, with the crowds, apart from the crowds. And as they held onto one another, she could feel his kindness. She could feel his hand in her hand and on her body. She could sense his longing and yearning. She became aware of her own. He held her close and she let him. He held her very close.

She felt proud. She felt happy. She could hear the music and yet it was far away, as were her troubles and sorrows. In his arms ... she felt safe. She knew it was ridiculous ... not possible ... not reasonable, but it was certain, as certain as the heart pounding in her chest ... she felt loved.

It was the most simple of moments. One that she could not have orchestrated. One that she could not have wished for herself or believed could ever happen. A moment where everything in her world was perfect - like the rhythm of a song. Where the dream melted into her reality. A moment when God was in control and placed into her path the most special of gifts. A tall and confident boy that would offer to her all she could imagine. A boy that she did not search out, but had been searching for her. A boy that took her by the hand, held her in his arms and showed her the way.

It was a simple beginning. It would be, however, the very moment that would secure the foundation and represent the magical tale of their lives together. This moment in time ... when they clung to each other, fell in love so easily and ... they danced.

Life, and more:

The Beginning + My Love