I ALWAYS SPELL YOUR NAME WRONG MEGAN
Do you remember me? You photographed me five years ago. I was just 19 and I moved to New York from Minneapolis. You were my coming of age. I became a woman that year. When you photographed me in all those sexy poses I hadn’t even had sex yet. That was the year I lost my virginity. My hair was longer back then. I was scared. Excited scared. I was afraid my parents would cut me off forever. I had to take your LASTNIGHTSPARTY watermark off all of your pictures of me because I didn’t want my dad or the kids back home to see my new life. I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was pure expression. But they wouldn’t understand. They would think I was on drugs or something. God, I wasn’t even drunk when we took those crazy photos. I’ve always wanted to take pictures like that. I thought about shooting for {semi-popular nightlife blog} or something like that but I didn’t think it was artistic enough. That what I love about what you do — all you want to do is make girls look beautiful. Believe me, I get it.

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