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Monday, 19 December 2011

Petra Ecclestone...Forget Paris










Get to know: Petra Ecclestone poses and is interviewed by Flaunt Magazine in which she states 'people will get to know the real her'.






Well, got a message from a friend in California passing this photo story to me just a couple of hours ago.  I've already touched upon Petra, her sister Tamara, mother Slavica and father Bernie Ecclestone before a few times.  I wasn't really planning on doing any posts about them again, especially since the paparrazi and entertainment magazines and television have that area covered. But, what the hell I thought, this is more interesting to me than watching the telly with a bunch of guys at the local benzinery.

You'll have to read my other posts at the attached links if youre not familiar with the name Petra Ecclestone. As for this photoshoot, I'm just putting the 2 photos from the photo session here,  the rest are at the source link for Flaunt Magazine. The one I like best and want to draw attention to however, is the one added at the top.  Some people may think this is a trashy photo, perhaps even tasteless or whatever display,  but I think it looks kind of really hot, creative...different. Kudos to the photographer for thinking outside the box with Petra on this one, but still using the rule of thirds, cropping, leading lines..etc.  (I have some amateur photography work in my background so I know photographic principles)  I'd actually have to say this is the hottest photo I've ever seen of a celebrity posing with currency in quite some time. Seen some really tasteless, ho-hum (yawn) photos with currency over the years. (If there's one thing this world doesn't need, it's more boring, done a million times currency photoshoots) Lighting cigars with currency is kind of lame, and has been passé since 1995. Looking at this one though makes me not even think about the roll of $100 bills in her hand at all.  How wierd is that?

I've gotten a fair share of spam over the last little while on one of my email addresses with.....well, let's just say there are a lot worse things one can be putting into their mouth.  Much worse. Now, this isn't the kind of photoshoot Petra typically takes part in.  Usually it's more classic traditional oriented photoshoots or modelling assignments. Now this may seem like a crazy idea, but I think this would be an awesome photo to have on a billboard, even in lower income neighbourhoods and areas.  Why? you may ask?  Well, it would give people something to reach for.  Like..."Someday I wanna be hot and on a billboard doing a currency photoshoot with a roll of $100 bills and flowing locks"  (Remember, I'm thinking outside the box too)  It would inspire people to go after their dreams, to give that extra effort to achieve the same. Actually this would be a cool billboard I would like to see in Zagreb, Rijeka or Split.  Maybe as an advertisement for.....I dunno, whatever.  Shampoo maybe, or on the side of one of those CROTRAM's concerning the price of monthly passes, tickets to Euro2012 or some raffle draw.  She's been getting flack in the beef jerky eating Srbian community parts around here as to why she didn't marry a Srb  or why her husband isn't wearing a Serbian hat or Serb opanci when going out for dinner, but that would be because she has Croatian in her background like Kolinda, not Srbian like this chick.  Besides, I think most people out there would definitely choose this photo selling a product or service on a billboard than have to look at ones like THESE or THESE.

Believe me, this is the type of  stimulating and creative image people want to see, especially when used to advertise their products or services. And most especially around the holidays.  Haven't we all had enough of those unispiring and depressing blah images that are giving our children the wrong message and bad morals.  Infusing their minds with images that are impeding their wish to be all they can be. To go for the gusto and reach for the stars.  That are implying that it's ok to have no dreams, to have no will to better themselves,  to have no desire to wash their nook and crannies on a regular basis even. Because.... "Hey!,  You will be able to reach for and grab that star or other dream anyway, the fantasy dream that always seemed out of reach Sparky, just do nothing your whole life and in the end people will give you that boost to help you achieve it. Your dreams will come true Sparky."





Just like Petra, this chap has reached for the stars and attained his dream, so shouldn't you?







I think our children deserve better than that.  Don't you?   Perhaps if  that chap had such inspiring, creative billboards to look at in his younger years, these days instead of eating wieners with pork and beans, peanut butter sandwiches on whole wheat or meatless and noodleless watery soup  he would be saying..."Garçon! Another round of filet mignon for the table, some lemon-honey roasted duck and your best bubbly! Snap! Snap!"





An example of an uninspiring image from these parts. Images like these give the impression that it's desireable to dress like it's still 1984 and to wear a chefs hat when bbq-ing weiners. Is this what you want your son or daughter to aspire to and be associated with as their contribution to mankind? as a mere purveyor of hot-dogged offerings and condiments?







 One is not going to be in a similar themed currency photoshoot anytime soon, or be inspired by said image, (no matter if youre a male or female), if youre constantly being inundated with images that just inspire you to sit in mall foodcourts shoving french fried potatoes into your cakehole, to stand around on street corners with your hands in your pocket,  spend time in shoddily decorated bar n grills, in boring (and filled with laughably over weight and dressed in drab patrons) coffee shops, to purchase your perfume at the dollar store or your shoes at Walmart.  Why, Jesus must be spinning in his grave at the state of todays generic, done a million times before, bland and dull billboards.

So again, I think these images, if anything, challenge people to think oustide the box.  It would be a different story if the photo had someone selling crack to a child that is standing next to her.  Or even more in bad taste like her standing in a slum somwhere surrounded by people selling deep fried cockroaches or larvae pie.  That would be very unapropos and unrealistic.  Anyway, you can read the article and make up your own mind about 'yea' or 'nea' on this one. I'll be back with my usual stuff when time from my studies allow.



Related: world-class-race-track-coming-to-zagreb

 petra-tamara-slavica-do-croatia

petra-ecclestone-invades-america

petra-ecclestone-gets-engaged

petra-ecclestones-designer-shoe

www.baby-ace.net

www.hellomagazine.com





I have yet to see anything even close to this in any Starbucks I've ever visited.





Source: flaunt.com

Related: dailymail.co.uk

dailymail.co.uk 



She’s a blonde bombshell and billionaire heiress that the paparazzi can’t get enough of who has recently made her first forays into the world of fashion. Here’s a hint: Her first name is a five-letter word that is also one of the world’s most enchanting destinations… And it starts with a “P.”

It’s a cinch, right?

Well, how about when I tell you that Miss Mystery Girl doesn’t party, recently married a man she calls her “high school sweetheart,” talks to her mother twice a day, spends most nights bowling, and despises the camera so much that she literally fainted at the mere sight of it at her recent Flaunt photo shoot?
Still a cinch?

“With time, people will get to know the real me and realize that I’m not going to parties and falling out of my dress and getting drunk and all that,” Petra Ecclestone tells me from a secluded spot her publicist has found for us in Beverly Hills. “Obviously, I don’t sit at home knitting all night long,” she says, batting her mascara-thickened eyelashes extra fast as if to underscore the point. “But I am very mature at the end of the day.”

Ecclestone is the daughter of British business magnate and Formula One head honcho Bernie Ecclestone (and Croatian former fashion model Slavica Ecclestone), and the new, proud owner of “Candyland,” the famed 57,000 square-foot mansion she purchased this past June from television mogul Aaron Spelling’s widow Candy (who relocated to more modest 15,555 square-foot digs in Century City).

It is a fascinating economic story about America’s seemingly diminishing global power that the symbol of a Hollywood Empire would become the second home of a 22-year-old, who dropped $85 million in cash at a time when most Americans her age are moving back home with their parents. With its glitzy and baroque overtones, it was as if Aaron Spelling himself were producing it from the grave.

“Yes, it does seem like something right out of Dynasty,” Ecclestone chortles.

Wearing a black Splendid top, Genetic Denim jeans, and Isabel Marant boots, and coyly brandishing a black Hermès bag (“People think I collect them, which I don’t.”), Ecclestone may lack the shoulder pads to play Joan Collins’ Alexis character, but she does seem perfectly cast to play the role of the out-of-control debutantes that have crashed and burned under the American gaze this past decade—whether in mug shots, sex tapes, or reality shows. Ecclestone seems painfully aware of the narrative: “I feel like I always have to defend myself. When you’re perceived to be something you’re not, it’s frustrating.”

I know what you’re thinking: Poor, poor Petra.

And it’s not just you that’s thinking it. TMZ recently featured a bikini-clad Petra aboard a yacht in St. Tropez sipping from a bottle of what they called “poor people’s tears” in a segment called “Why Your Life Continues to Suck.”

Ecclestone takes it all in stride. “It’s actually worse in the U.K. I have to defend myself more there,” she says. “Americans are more apt to understand my parents’ story. They didn’t come from great beginnings, and they had to work very hard to get to where they got… I realize I am very privileged. But there’s a difference between being spoiled and privileged.”

It’s a sound bite that Ecclestone (and older sister Tamara, who is rumored to be landing a reality show in the U.S.) comes back to over and over again—and although neither elaborate much on the distinction, it’s not hard to see that it weighs heavily upon Petra. It’s a weight that feels, at least in part, to have motivated her latest business foray, Stark, a luxury handbag line with price points varying from $500 to $5000, launching in January. Ecclestone credits Tracey Emin, her favorite artist, as the inspiration behind the line’s first season.
“I love contemporary art: Ellen Von Unwerth, Sarah Lucas, Damien Hirst, whereas my husband (James Stunt) loves the masters. So, in the house we have his Old English masters and my modern, quirky art mixed together.”

Ecclestone utters all of this very nonchalantly, yet there’s an incredible heaviness of being that appears to inhabit her—she seems to be modifying her words as they come out of her mouth and fidgeting with her handbag as if it were a set of prayer beads. The key to this unusual world-weariness may be the unusual life-threatening illness she experienced at age 14. When you think of billionaire heiresses, Meningitis isn’t the disease that first comes to mind.

“Before I had Meningitis, I didn’t even know what it was,” she says. “That’s why I got involved in the Meningitis Foundation, to help raise awareness about the signs and the symptoms and how crucial the first 48 hours of it is.”

I wonder aloud whether having to face her own mortality at a time in her life she might have otherwise been facing her own pony maybe made her more sober than the run-of-the-mill billionaire heiress?
“I never went through the drug-taking, alcohol abusing [stage]. As long as I can remember, I’ve been a very big hypochondriac. I can have a really good time with one drink. More than that doesn’t seem like so much fun, plus I don’t want to disappoint my parents. I never want to let them down.”

As we say our goodbyes, I’m kind of hoping she’s going to invite me over for a round or two of bowling—the alley where she hosts nightly gatherings for her friends is perhaps the one remaining trace of Candyland. “I’m getting better. I get to 110 per round,” she boasts exuberantly. “It’s decent, but not amazing.”

I notice that the grill of her SUV is customized with the word “Petra” where the “Range Rover” logo normally appears. It seems incongruous with how she likes to keep a low profile.
“I had ‘The Petra’ in London and it wasn’t that big a deal, and then I came here and was like ‘Oh crap, that wasn’t a good move.’”

“Come on, Petra,” I implore. “Your car stands out more than the Batmobile.”
And that’s when I remember that despite the stable marriage, the close relationship with her parents and sibling, the disdain for drugs, alcohol, and cameras, and all-too-harrowing memories of an illness that threatened her life, Petra Ecclestone is still just a few years from her teens.

“My husband has a Lamborghini and the other day they [the paparazzi] jumped on the car and managed to get me with my pink knickers which wasn’t great.”

Then she hears the words that just tumbled out of her mouth and tacks on the coda, “but I’ll live.”





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