Nonude Teen Model Photo Set

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Source: When in your presence so keen
Source: Lay down your weapon and kneel
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View allAll Photos Tagged Tween Model
Sick irl right now so uploads are a bit slow sorry!
The application for the three AVISTARS ♛ 2021 competitions is open! We are looking for you, if you are different, if you think you are unique and if you enjoy styling your avatar.
Tweens (8-12 yo), Teens (13-17yo) and adults (18+ yo) can apply to audition now:
The application is open until July 5th, 2021!
TWEENSTAR ♛ Misfit Toys 2020, Benji Bane
Hikaru_Enimo (thank you, my baby ♥)
A bit of digging in my archive...My lovely muse Ivet, 10 years old at the time of shoot.
this photo is not processed as much as it apparently looks.
shot in raw, iso 320, with available light, no reflectors.
raw processing in nikon capture = slight curves to brighten a bit
dodged the whites of the eyes to my liking but i did not touch the iris, that is all her. her eyes were so stunning, i wanted the whites to be piercing as well.
"healed" about 3 scratches on her face.
ran neat image to bring down the slight noise. i wanted it as smooth as possible.
converted to sRGB and jpeg for internet. (oh and lowered the saturation a bit after converting it to sRGB)
My dear muse Joelle, age 12 at the time, bursting into laughter midst the photo session.
My lovely muse Joelle, 12 at the time of the shoot.
Beautiful portrait of Lily. Thank you for liking, commenting and adding to faves! For more please visit my pages here: Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Website Thank you!
My lovely muse, Joelle, age 12 at the time of shoot.
I didn't know her or her family but they seemed likable. Having a long lens pointed at them from time to time didn't bother them.
A couple more snaps of my lovely muse Joelle, age 12 at the time of the shoot.
A candid snap caught midst rehearsal, not posed, not set up, Mina with her hepburnesque aesthetics optimally channeled.
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My lovely muse Ivet, age 10 at the time of shoot.
With this capture of my lovely muse Joelle (age 12 at the time of shoot) I am wishing all of you joyful holidays, Merry Xmas and a great, pleasant, successful, creative and inspirational 2020 and decade ahead!
Much thanks for all the kind support, it is very much appreciated!
Enjoy the time spent with your loved ones!
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
Sat by the river and it made me complete
Oh simple thing where have you gone?
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?
Oh simple thing where have you gone?
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin
And if you have a minute why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
A couple more snaps of my lovely muse Joelle, age 12 at the time of the shoot.
My lovely muse Joelle, 12 at the time of the shoot.
My lovely muse Ivet, age 10 at the time of shoot.
My lovely muse Ivet, age 10 at the time of shoot.
I finally came unhinged in the dentist's office -- one of those ritzy pediatric practices tricked out with comic books, DVDs and arcade games -- where I'd taken my 3-year-old daughter for her first exam. Until then, I'd held my tongue. I'd smiled politely every time the supermarket-checkout clerk greeted her with ''Hi, Princess''; ignored the waitress at our local breakfast joint who called the funny-face pancakes she ordered her ''princess meal''; made no comment when the lady at Longs Drugs said, ''I bet I know your favorite color'' and handed her a pink balloon rather than letting her choose for herself. Maybe it was the dentist's Betty Boop inflection that got to me, but when she pointed to the exam chair and said, ''Would you like to sit in my special princess throne so I can sparkle your teeth?'' I lost it.
''Oh, for God's sake,'' I snapped. ''Do you have a princess drill, too?''
She stared at me as if I were an evil stepmother.
''Come on!'' I continued, my voice rising. ''It's 2006, not 1950. This is Berkeley, Calif. Does every little girl really have to be a princess?''
My daughter, who was reaching for a Cinderella sticker, looked back and forth between us. ''Why are you so mad, Mama?'' she asked. ''What's wrong with princesses?''
Diana may be dead and Masako disgraced, but here in America, we are in the midst of a royal moment. To call princesses a ''trend'' among girls is like calling Harry Potter a book. Sales at Disney Consumer Products, which started the craze six years ago by packaging nine of its female characters under one royal rubric, have shot up to $3 billion, globally, this year, from $300 million in 2001. There are now more than 25,000 Disney Princess items. ''Princess,'' as some Disney execs call it, is not only the fastest-growing brand the company has ever created; they say it is on its way to becoming the largest girls' franchise on the planet.
Meanwhile in 2001, Mattel brought out its own ''world of girl'' line of princess Barbie dolls, DVDs, toys, clothing, home décor and myriad other products. At a time when Barbie sales were declining domestically, they became instant best sellers. Shortly before that, Mary Drolet, a Chicago-area mother and former Claire's and Montgomery Ward executive, opened Club Libby Lu, now a chain of mall stores based largely in the suburbs in which girls ages 4 to 12 can shop for ''Princess Phones'' covered in faux fur and attend ''Princess-Makeover Birthday Parties.'' Saks bought Club Libby Lu in 2003 for $12 million and has since expanded it to 87 outlets; by 2005, with only scant local advertising, revenues hovered around the $46 million mark, a 53 percent jump from the previous year. Pink, it seems, is the new gold.
Even Dora the Explorer, the intrepid, dirty-kneed adventurer, has ascended to the throne: in 2004, after a two-part episode in which she turns into a ''true princess,'' the Nickelodeon and Viacom consumer-products division released a satin-gowned ''Magic Hair Fairytale Dora,'' with hair that grows or shortens when her crown is touched. Among other phrases the bilingual doll utters: ''Vámonos! Let's go to fairy-tale land!'' and ''Will you brush my hair?''
As a feminist mother -- not to mention a nostalgic product of the Grranimals era -- I have been taken by surprise by the princess craze and the girlie-girl culture that has risen around it. What happened to William wanting a doll and not dressing your cat in an apron? Whither Marlo Thomas? I watch my fellow mothers, women who once swore they'd never be dependent on a man, smile indulgently at daughters who warble ''So This Is Love'' or insist on being called Snow White. I wonder if they'd concede so readily to sons who begged for combat fatigues and mock AK-47s.
More to the point, when my own girl makes her daily beeline for the dress-up corner of her preschool classroom -- something I'm convinced she does largely to torture me -- I worry about what playing Little Mermaid is teaching her. I've spent much of my career writing about experiences that undermine girls' well-being, warning parents that a preoccupation with body and beauty (encouraged by films, TV, magazines and, yes, toys) is perilous to their daughters' mental and physical health. Am I now supposed to shrug and forget all that? If trafficking in stereotypes doesn't matter at 3, when does it matter? At 6? Eight? Thirteen?
On the other hand, maybe I'm still surfing a washed-out second wave of feminism in a third-wave world. Maybe princesses are in fact a sign of progress, an indication that girls can embrace their predilection for pink without compromising strength or ambition; that, at long last, they can ''have it all.'' Or maybe it is even less complex than that: to mangle Freud, maybe a princess is sometimes just a princess. And, as my daughter wants to know, what's wrong with that?
The rise of the Disney princesses reads like a fairy tale itself, with Andy Mooney, a former Nike executive, playing the part of prince, riding into the company on a metaphoric white horse in January 2000 to save a consumer-products division whose sales were dropping by as much as 30 percent a year. Both overstretched and underfocused, the division had triggered price wars by granting multiple licenses for core products (say, Winnie-the-Pooh undies) while ignoring the potential of new media. What's more, Disney films like ''A Bug's Life'' in 1998 had yielded few merchandising opportunities -- what child wants to snuggle up with an ant?
It was about a month after Mooney's arrival that the magic struck. That's when he flew to Phoenix to check out his first ''Disney on Ice'' show. ''Standing in line in the arena, I was surrounded by little girls dressed head to toe as princesses,'' he told me last summer in his palatial office, then located in Burbank, and speaking in a rolling Scottish burr. ''They weren't even Disney products. They were generic princess products they'd appended to a Halloween costume. And the light bulb went off. Clearly there was latent demand here. So the next morning I said to my team, 'O.K., let's establish standards and a color palette and talk to licensees and get as much product out there as we possibly can that allows these girls to do what they're doing anyway: projecting themselves into the characters from the classic movies.' ''
Mooney picked a mix of old and new heroines to wear the Pantone pink No. 241 corona: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, Mulan and Pocahontas. It was the first time Disney marketed characters separately from a film's release, let alone lumped together those from different stories. To ensure the sanctity of what Mooney called their individual ''mythologies,'' the princesses never make eye contact when they're grouped: each stares off in a slightly different direction as if unaware of the others' presence.
It is also worth noting that not all of the ladies are of royal extraction. Part of the genius of ''Princess'' is that its meaning is so broadly constructed that it actually has no meaning. Even Tinker Bell was originally a Princess, though her reign didn't last. ''We'd always debate over whether she was really a part of the Princess mythology,'' Mooney recalled. ''She really wasn't.'' Likewise, Mulan and Pocahontas, arguably the most resourceful of the bunch, are rarely depicted on Princess merchandise, though for a different reason. Their rustic garb has less bling potential than that of old-school heroines like Sleeping Beauty. (When Mulan does appear, she is typically in the kimonolike hanfu, which makes her miserable in the movie, rather than her liberated warrior's gear.)
The first Princess items, released with no marketing plan, no focus groups, no advertising, sold as if blessed by a fairy godmother. To this day, Disney conducts little market research on the Princess line, relying instead on the power of its legacy among mothers as well as the instant-read sales barometer of the theme parks and Disney Stores. ''We simply gave girls what they wanted,'' Mooney said of the line's success, ''although I don't think any of us grasped how much they wanted this. I wish I could sit here and take credit for having some grand scheme to develop this, but all we did was envision a little girl's room and think about how she could live out the princess fantasy. The counsel we gave to licensees was: What type of bedding would a princess want to sleep in? What kind of alarm clock would a princess want to wake up to? What type of television would a princess like to see? It's a rare case where you find a girl who has every aspect of her room bedecked in Princess, but if she ends up with three or four of these items, well, then you have a very healthy business.''
Every reporter Mooney talks to asks some version of my next question: Aren't the Princesses, who are interested only in clothes, jewelry and cadging the handsome prince, somewhat retrograde role models?
''Look,'' he said, ''I have friends whose son went through the Power Rangers phase who castigated themselves over what they must've done wrong. Then they talked to other parents whose kids had gone through it. The boy passes through. The girl passes through. I see girls expanding their imagination through visualizing themselves as princesses, and then they pass through that phase and end up becoming lawyers, doctors, mothers or princesses, whatever the case may be.''
Mooney has a point: There are no studies proving that playing princess directly damages girls' self-esteem or dampens other aspirations. On the other hand, there is evidence that young women who hold the most conventionally feminine beliefs -- who avoid conflict and think they should be perpetually nice and pretty -- are more likely to be depressed than others and less likely to use contraception. What's more, the 23 percent decline in girls' participation in sports and other vigorous activity between middle and high school has been linked to their sense that athletics is unfeminine. And in a survey released last October by Girls Inc., school-age girls overwhelmingly reported a paralyzing pressure to be ''perfect'': not only to get straight A's and be the student-body president, editor of the newspaper and captain of the swim team but also to be ''kind and caring,'' ''please everyone, be very thin and dress right.'' Give those girls a pumpkin and a glass slipper and they'd be in business.
At the grocery store one day, my daughter noticed a little girl sporting a Cinderella backpack. ''There's that princess you don't like, Mama!'' she shouted.
''Um, yeah,'' I said, trying not to meet the other mother's hostile gaze.
''Don't you like her blue dress, Mama?''
She thought about this. ''Then don't you like her face?''
''Her face is all right,'' I said, noncommittally, though I'm not thrilled to have my Japanese-Jewish child in thrall to those Aryan features. (And what the heck are those blue things covering her ears?) ''It's just, honey, Cinderella doesn't really do anything.''
Over the next 45 minutes, we ran through that conversation, verbatim, approximately 37 million times, as my daughter pointed out Disney Princess Band-Aids, Disney Princess paper cups, Disney Princess lip balm, Disney Princess pens, Disney Princess crayons and Disney Princess notebooks -- all cleverly displayed at the eye level of a 3-year-old trapped in a shopping cart -- as well as a bouquet of Disney Princess balloons bobbing over the checkout line. The repetition was excessive, even for a preschooler. What was it about my answers that confounded her? What if, instead of realizing: Aha! Cinderella is a symbol of the patriarchal oppression of all women, another example of corporate mind control and power-to-the-people! my 3-year-old was thinking, Mommy doesn't want me to be a girl?
According to theories of gender constancy, until they're about 6 or 7, children don't realize that the sex they were born with is immutable. They believe that they have a choice: they can grow up to be either a mommy or a daddy. Some psychologists say that until permanency sets in kids embrace whatever stereotypes our culture presents, whether it's piling on the most spangles or attacking one another with light sabers. What better way to assure that they'll always remain themselves? If that's the case, score one for Mooney. By not buying the Princess Pull-Ups, I may be inadvertently communicating that being female (to the extent that my daughter is able to understand it) is a bad thing.
Anyway, you have to give girls some credit. It's true that, according to Mattel, one of the most popular games young girls play is ''bride,'' but Disney found that a groom or prince is incidental to that fantasy, a regrettable necessity at best. Although they keep him around for the climactic kiss, he is otherwise relegated to the bottom of the toy box, which is why you don't see him prominently displayed in stores.
What's more, just because they wear the tulle doesn't mean they've drunk the Kool-Aid. Plenty of girls stray from the script, say, by playing basketball in their finery, or casting themselves as the powerful evil stepsister bossing around the sniveling Cinderella. I recall a headline-grabbing 2005 British study that revealed that girls enjoy torturing, decapitating and microwaving their Barbies nearly as much as they like to dress them up for dates. There is spice along with that sugar after all, though why this was news is beyond me: anyone who ever played with the doll knows there's nothing more satisfying than hacking off all her hair and holding her underwater in the bathtub. Princesses can even be a boon to exasperated parents: in our house, for instance, royalty never whines and uses the potty every single time.
''Playing princess is not the issue,'' argues Lyn Mikel Brown, an author, with Sharon Lamb, of ''Packaging Girlhood: Rescuing Our Daughters From Marketers' Schemes.'' ''The issue is 25,000 Princess products,'' says Brown, a professor of education and human development at Colby College. ''When one thing is so dominant, then it's no longer a choice: it's a mandate, cannibalizing all other forms of play. There's the illusion of more choices out there for girls, but if you look around, you'll see their choices are steadily narrowing.''
It's hard to imagine that girls' options could truly be shrinking when they dominate the honor roll and outnumber boys in college. Then again, have you taken a stroll through a children's store lately? A year ago, when we shopped for ''big girl'' bedding at Pottery Barn Kids, we found the ''girls'' side awash in flowers, hearts and hula dancers; not a soccer player or sailboat in sight. Across the no-fly zone, the ''boys'' territory was all about sports, trains, planes and automobiles. Meanwhile, Baby GAP's boys' onesies were emblazoned with ''Big Man on Campus'' and the girls' with ''Social Butterfly''; guess whose matching shoes were decorated on the soles with hearts and whose sported a ''No. 1'' logo? And at Toys ''R'' Us, aisles of pink baby dolls, kitchens, shopping carts and princesses unfurl a safe distance from the ''Star Wars'' figures, GeoTrax and
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Nonude Teen Model Photo Set