Veteran fashion show casting director James Scully has taken to Instagram to call out the fashion industry, specifically the Parisian contingent, for its treatment of models.

Taking on the role of whistle-blower, Scully named and shamed slew of brands contributing to the mistreatment of models during the casting process.

“So true to my promise at #bofvoices that I would be a voice for any models, agents or all who see things wrong with this business I'm disappointed to come to Paris and hear that the usual suspects are up to the same tricks,” Scully wrote on the social media app, before going into a story of the poor treatment of models waiting to be cast in the upcoming Balenciaga show in Paris.

“I was very disturbed to hear from a number of girls this morning that yesterday at the Balenciaga casting Madia & Ramy (serial abusers) held a casting in which they made over 150 girls wait in a stairwell told them they would have to stay over three hours to be seen and not to leave. In their usual fashion they shut the door went to lunch and turned off the lights, to the stairs leaving every girl with only the lights of their phones to see,” Scully revealed.

The casting director, who has worked with the likes of Stella McCartney, Derek Lam, Nina Ricci, Jason Wu, Carolina Herrera and for Gucci during the Tom Ford era, is a well-established and respected member of the fashion community and a long-time advocate for diversity in the modelling community.

“Not only was this sadistic and cruel it was dangerous and left more than a few of the girls I spoke with traumatised. Most of the girls have asked to have their options for Balenciaga cancelled as well as Hermes and Elie Saab who they also cast for because they refuse to be treated like animals,” Scully continued, adding that, “Balenciaga [is] part of Kering it is a public company and these houses need to know what the people they hire are doing on their behalf before a well-deserved lawsuit comes their way.”

Scully then went to touch upon the diversity and age issues the industry is also facing, noting that houses were turning away women of colour and attempting to use underage models.

“On top of that I have heard from several agents, some of whom are black, that they have received mandate from Lanvin that they do not want to be presented with women of colour. And another big house is trying to sneak 15 year-olds into Paris! It's inconceivable to me that people have no regard for human decency or the lives and feelings of these girls, especially when too, too many of these models are under the age of 18 and clearly not equipped to be here but god forbid well sacrifice anything or anyone for an exclusive right?”

Scully’s post has racked up over seven thousand likes and comments from models who found themselves entangled in the Balenciaga stairwell.

“I was one of this 150 girls waiting in this stairwell, Hopefully, I'm 27 now, and it's not my real job, but if I would have been younger and more into this, I would have been so destroyed by this kind of people or treatment. Personally, I decided to leave the casting, just before it was my turn. Just after I saw the casting director screaming at us to go out — outside, in the dark — and told us that we are like groupies in a concert, and how incredible and unbearable it was,” commented Instagram user Judith Schiltz, who purported to be in the stairwell.

Models Joan Smalls, Doutzen Kroes and Candice Swanepoel have also commented on the post.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses

A friend of mine
One said
That "we are like mulder
And scully."
Now I pass that on to you
We are like
Mulder Scully
Though I was a skeptical
About romance
Instead of aliens.

hi dudes




i am enjoying watching neighbours at the moment because it teaches that people don’t trust

anyone who ever messes with kids, yeah, i dealt with it, i didn’t know it at the time but i dealt with it

at the time i thought they were rich ****** but i have to be careful as i can’t seem to get past this

i am just in the same boat as steph, you see she was worried about losing her son, and me, i wanted

to be with the cool kids down the mall, now, dudes, i haven’t caused many problems lately and i am ready

for and nonsense teasingt, i think that neighbours is being thorough in showing how people who hassles

children get treated, once a man looked at me weird just for sitting next to his daughter and he said mate

kids are innocent and then said i know all about ya, it taught i will never be a father or family man and people

tell me to stop looking at their babies, with the words, get ya fucken eyes off my baby, when i ain’t looking at their

fucken baby, young teenagers tell me to stop staring, but they just don’t want me staring, i don’t think they knew me

but steph is being tortured in her mind by situations that make her crazy, especially when you can’t change the past

and steph, as well as me, should be left alone to get better, you see what these people who tease you don’t realise

is, steph as well as me are dealing with, finding it hard to get past their past, especially when i was being teased like

being given wee, nobody wanted to party in nightclubs with me, or a goofy friend with anger management issues,

you see i am never going to have kids

nobody wants me because i am ugly and they can’t trust me

it’s worst for steph cause her issues with kids were close to her

you see i got grabbed outside the charnwood inn and i ran through civic saying FUCKEN STOP HASSLING ME

steph is feeling the same way, but she hears green sleeves, over and over and dudes, she is getting teased by a ****

yeah you heard me right, A BIG RICH ****, she got a phone call saying it was charlie, but it appears not, and then

another woman who is also is a BIG RICH ****, had a son Charlie, and she said she wanted the extra and then

she came back and said she never asked for it, and there was no Charlie, and yes, she was a BIG RICH ****, don’t ever

think that kind of teasing is cool, because it ain’t, remember what hannah montana said, everybody makes mistakes

everybody has those days, and NOBODY’S PERFECT,   you see i would like to see steph do a bit of buddhist positive suffering

to show the world, how many problems the mentally ill deal with each today, if she loses her job, who cares, it teaches the crowd that

mentally ill people are just getting treated like hobos, you see, ya know, no matter what i did, people do many worst  things than me

like armed robberies, and some people **** kids, me or steph never killed them, you see if we saw steph suffer a bit on the show

it teaches the world how awful people who have a mental problem and a past have to deal with it, you see my writing is good

still mentally ill, my art is talented, still mentally ill, i get reviews i don’t like i a man said i was ******* but i think my shows are cool

and i have a very chronic mental illness, perhaps i have to wait till my next life to get jobs or have fun with kids, oh well,

but i am grateful to channel 10 are using steph to show how mentally ill people suffer

i know what i did, but i am doing art and theatre go to poetry slams do shows on youtube

go to the christmas carols watching parades on youtube, and i helped mentally ill people have a meal when the BIG RICH *****

have forgotten about or teasing, you see the country we live in don’t give a flying **** about the mentally ill, the teasers start the problems

of the person by doing a harmless little tease, only to BIG FAT RICH *****, steph from neighbours is the mentally ill’s skate goat

my advice to you, don’t go to people’s homes  all it might send your voices going haywire, i am happy that channel 10 is using steph

to show the world what mentally ill people are going through, and instead of seeing steph go back to the psych ward, how about

the world gives her a case manager and loads of activites like bowling and golf, they do it on the family sitcoms, i just am so tired of

channell 10 are so blind when it comes to mental illness, the mentally ill need community care on the show neighbours, ok

(11 May 1934 -November 2022)

Mister Wilson, salt of the earth
a peaceful poet, embarks on rebirth
His charm, his wit, his humble wisdom
We honour now with candle lit
A gardener of words and of the land
May he be led lovingly by the hand
to a place full of foxes and robins
with trees, flowers, and crystal clear waters
May he find there all he loves dearly
As we celebrate his life and see his heart more clearly
Sweet dreams to our dear friend
You are in our hearts, our love we send
❤

A seventy year old woman is waiting at her physician's office in a hospital gown. Her name is called by a secretary, and she calmly gets up to walk to the desk. She is told that her doctor is waiting to speak with her in his office, where he has the clothes she arrived in.

After some time, she exits the office in her dress, shawl, and shoes. She is clutching a manilla envelope. She is wide-eyed, calm, and content. Her face glistens with the fresh residue of tears.

The woman's granddaughter is waiting in her sedan, parked in an adjacent parking structure. She is listening to music on the radio. The woman shuffles to the passenger seat door and enters the car. The granddaughter instinctively starts the car and begins backing out of the parking space. As they're leaving the parking structure, the granddaughter notices the manilla envelope held by the woman. She stares at it, missing her signal to turn onto the road. She ***** her head back forward, and her lip quivers before gradually morphing to a smile. She turns off the radio before continuing their trip home.

The woman enjoys many nights with her relatives and friends, hosting dinner parties and being treated to recreational outings.

When the woman meets friendly acquaintances or loved ones in public, they always deliberately congratulate her before swiftly and gracefully continuing their conversation as normal.

One month after the previous doctor's visit, the woman is awakened by breakfast in bed, prepared by her daughter and granddaughter who are both doing their best to contain their beaming excitement.

"These deviled eggs are wonderful. I knew you would share the skills I taught your mother."

The woman's daughter asks her if she'd like some privacy.

"Oh, no. The more the merrier! I almost couldn't sleep with how much I wondered who would be standing in my kitchen right now. Feel free to let them in, just one at a time at first if you wouldn't mind."

The woman's daughter exhaled in delightful affirmation, and obliged. The daughter and granddaughter left the woman's bedroom.

A tall man named Harvey with white hair, a scully cap,  and glasses put down a mimosa that he was nursing onto the kitchen counter. He smirks when he notices the woman's daughter nodding loudly as she walks towards the crowd. Harvey turns to the rest of the small, tight-knit crowd who are enjoying each other's company in the kitchen. He pardons his interruption, asking if they mind that he go first. Empathetically, everyone in the room encourages him to proceed.

Harvey enters the woman's room.

"Oh my lord! I wish I'd finished that script!"

Harvey chuckles at the woman's remark, bending over to hug her in her bed. The woman gleefully reciprocates, with a grape still bouncing around her mouth.

"You know, I give you full permission here on out to use or adapt anything in my vault. Consider it my retirement gift. If you need to talk to any of the new people to get the rights, just call Diane about it first. She'll straighten it all out."

Harvey praises the woman's work, saying he couldn't do any of it justice. He thanks her for the gesture, but says it won't be necessary. They spend almost fifteen minutes reminiscing with one another.

He asks her how she's feeling.

"Great, actually. Now that I've had more time to process all my feelings recently, especially with everyone else, I feel more dignified. I feel ready for what's to come. I'm surprised we're one of the few cultures of this world that do this. I always knew that this is how we meant it to be, but I was still scared of the future and didn't quite trust the process. Now I'm confident since I've felt that the process is itself trusting me. Does that make any sense?"

Harvey thinks it does. He asks if the woman would like to speak to some of the others, and she agrees.

Over the course of ninety minutes, a hearty handful of relatives and close friends visit the woman in her room in small groups, thanking her for everything they've given them and receiving her own loving compliments in response.

After everyone's spoken to her individually, they all excitedly rendezvous in the kitchen with a pastor. The last of a charcuterie board is picked at by the younger attendees while the daughter speaks to the pastor, who arrived within the past half hour. The daughter is nervously trying to clarify procedural details with the pastor, but the pastor replies speedily and in a reassuring tone.

All the visitors file back into the woman's bedroom, lining the perimeter and encircling her bed. The pastor proudly strides to the center of the room, facing the woman who is practically glowing with honor.

The pastor introduces himself out of formality to the room, but with an infectious sense of levity in acknowledgement that everyone's already acquainted with him. He thanks the woman for electing him to be the officiant of this traditional meeting. He joyously espouses a soliloquy of his personal admirations for the woman, recounting their bonding memories. He acknowledges the mutual love in the room, recognizing those in attendance.

He reaches a cadence, announcing that everyone is gathered in this room today to deliver a greeting of congratulations-in regards to some landmark information-to the woman.

The pastor looks directly at the woman and calmly says "congratulations, Eve. You're dying."

"I AM?!?!"

Grape juice leaks onto her blouse from the side of her mouth.

She will return to me
Just like the shadows of spring;
And I will know her, truly,
Just as the shadows of spring.

Tell them what really happens . I know you know.

Tell them you know why the Blue Sky is black. What is it you think you know about water and spectrums?


You think******* looks like Chalk but you don't really care because you Smoke something else.

Tell them you think twice before saying something smart, Not very Smart is it?

I know you think they went to the Moon. Because you chose Neil and Mark over Mulder and Scully.
                                                                
Talk to them about your glorious ****** peaks that long for someone to match your Broken.

I know you think they don't know. How could they possibly know cloud-99


The Bliss. My days aren't numbered here.

My cup of tea, diluted because lukewarm is all I am

My HorrorScopes forever being so Jack and Rose on the shipwreck. Except, This is not a film.

Don't mention how I always Choke on the Calcium I smoke because******* is too Mainstream. That's not your business anyway.

It's the River of Frozen tears I get the  night chills from. I'm sick and how do I tell my Mother that I'm coming?    

Who'll open the gates for me?

May The Lord See my heart and forgive me. My intention was to break bread  and Learn how to sing. But all I learned was how to Speak Melancholia.

I am from plaid couches and plastic covers
       that squeak and rip.
I am from ***** pool tiles and loud pool cleaners
       humming, humming.
I am from the back street littered with fallen leaves
       and cracked tar.

I’m from “the Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”
I’m from “and also with you,” rattling around large stained glass,
        like coins in a jar.
  (loud rattling, coughing,
       crying children, flipping pages)

I’m from long car rides with music blasting,
       windows rolled down.
I’m from Tool, Wings, Metallica.
I’m from the Beatles, Foo Fighters,
       and that “obscure” Indie band
       that Walks the Moon.

I’m from sitting with my Dad,
       whistling the X-Files theme song
       the title sequence plays
I’m from totally shipping Mulder and Scully
       before it was cool.
       (actually it still isn’t cool)
I’m from “that’s my girl”, and “you’re my favorite”.

I’m from Joan and Beedee and tall,
       bright flowers
       and trees from a magic green thumb.
I’m from “Good Old Texas”
       and large Texan stars,
       and tall cowboy boots.

I’m from a ***** canvas, covered in thick paint
       it hangs so somberly.
As if as old as my great grandmother
      who placed it on the wall.
I’m from a family spl it in two.

I’m still from that large house down the street.
I’m still from that small apartment,
       with the map on the wall.
Bright red pins stuck in that wall,
       on cities with names I've memorized.

My family tree expands,
       a large oak with strong roots,
       and weak branches.
I am from a tree with two branches to fill.
It does not end with me.

I am from the cities far away from here,
       Art filled cities that my children will see.
I am from the murals
       written and drawn across the town.
These cities will be our newer,
       stronger branch upon the family tree.

As I sleep
I see the face
Of the fictional
Woman who I created
Green eyes
Firey red hair
Looks like a young Scully.

i'm so tired.
my soul is hungover and what's left is smoldering.
Sometimes i like to pretend i'm Fox Mulder
because this life feels like an X-File:
out of this world and ignored.
the truth may be out there and i may or may not believe,
but at least i have my very own Scully to keep me real
before i fade away into someone else again.
sigh, what is life?
is this life?
how can i have a life
if death calls me so?
what if i died again today or tomorrow,
would i truly rest or would i just come back again
as someone new and equally depressed?
who cares, really?
i'm about to stop caring and live life like i'm dead anyways,
maybe then i can finally feel alive.

FBI like SCI/FI
X: Scully and Mulder

Sceptic and Mystic
Science informed Intuition

Solves the mysteries
Of scurrilous skulduggeries

Heinous histories
Resolved collaboratively

Seven and eighth grade I dream of
being like Dana scully
Only to fall In love with
Meek yt humansome
Doctor
While being fbi.

Ninth and tenth grade
Dream of being a fem yakuza
Who invites her underlings
Into a world of love


Present day: I got you