Look what I found while digging through boxes of my past: my one and only cover shot.
It was a brief modeling career. One brought about quite by accident.
It involved a special sections editor with a short deadline. It included no budget money for a cover shoot. Coincidentally, there was a bride-to-be in the house (me). Even more convenient, the groom-to-be is a photographer.
So, a convergence of seemingly random bits of information found me in an upscale bridal shop on a snowy afternoon modeling veils and wraps (things I was not planning on wearing in my very simple ceremony) for my soon-to-be husband.
Mr. Future Husband got to see me in a bridal veil and all the fluff — something that would never happen again. I got to be featured on a cover of a magazine. My oldest daughter, who was 6 years old at the time, thought I was a celebrity. I let her think that.
It bought me some extra authority for about a week.