I think that fashion, in general, is a world of super-heightened glamour, and when you talk about super-heightened glamour, the first thing that comes to mind is a drag queen.
I never wanted to work in fashion. At age 12 or 13, I wanted to design for showgirls - for the theater! And I was crazy for the Hollywood of the 1950s: Dietrich, Elizabeth Taylor, Jennifer Jones. They were my idea of glamour - and Sylvie Vartan, the French singer.
We were probably the last people in the country to get a VCR and we didn't have cable. There wasn't any admiration of glamour, no, 'I want to look like them or have that lifestyle', because everyone in my town had the same lifestyle. So I didn't think, 'Ooh, a movie star's birthday!' I just thought, 'What?'
Oftentimes, my career as a model is based around glamour or creating a fantasy world. That in itself is not a bad thing, as I think art and inspiration has its place in society.
I am happy being a man in a dress. Some people get confused and think I'm a trans woman, but I'm strict about the difference. What I do is performance, it's staged, it's glamour - it's not real life. But for trans people, being born in the wrong body - there's nothing glamorous or easy about that.
I always wanted to tell stories. Well, at least, I always came back to the notion of storytelling when the glitz and glamour of being a special effects designer or a fighter pilot or a DEA agent wore off.
It is great to add some glamour to the food industry, like television shows have done for the food world and inspiring people to work in the industry. The flip side of that is unfortunately people think that after they get their qualifications, they get their invitation to compete on 'Top Chef.'
Most of my friends are not actors. Most people have an idea of what an actor's life is, and it's pure glamour and excitement: it's easy and free and everyone loves you. But with a certain level of fame, there's a real level of paranoia and depression that comes with what you do, that nobody talks about.