Stylist: Giuliana Mayo
Makeup: Glenn Alfonso
Special thanks to: Chris Nieratko, Agata Alexander, Junker Designs, Nate Liquor, Angela Defoe, Blood Is the New Black, The Power House Bar
When I was a teenager living in Portland, Oregon, my mom would visit bands, friends, and men in Los Angeles, and I was often invited along. We’d have adventures with what I now know were high-priced escorts and rock stars’ girlfriends at various bars and fancy hotels. I’d take pictures, but mostly I would just hang out. My mom secured me a fake ID so I could join the group and get into shows.
I was fascinated with LA at an early age. After I turned 18, my mother introduced me to her friend Rose, and we formed a friendship based on drugs. Rose had to leave Portland when the FBI hit her boyfriend with embezzlement charges. She knew the feds would soon come after her assets, as they were acquired through his illegal activity. So my half brother, Rose, and I drove a U-Haul full of her stuff down to California. Afterward, my brother went back up north and I stayed behind with Rose.
In 2003, I was dancing at strip clubs, and Rose, living off the money she got from selling two Porsches her boyfriend had bought her, was running low on funds. When the FBI showed up to repo her stuff, she started making connections in the porn business.
One day, she asked whether I wanted to accompany her to a porn set to pick up a check she was owed. I had preconceived notions about pornography, and I was sure we were on our way to a filthy back-alley motel to meet some Lester Diamond character. But in reality, our destination was a big mansion in Malibu where everyone used to shoot back then. The house was buzzing with activity and a free-spirited vibe, which I imagine is similar to the feeling you’d get walking into a nudist colony. Rose disappeared almost immediately, and I wandered over to watch a sex scene being filmed. What I saw was a cute girl named Emily DeVinci riding this beefcake on the stairwell. She noticed me and said, “If you’re going to watch me fuck, you have to take off your shirt.” So I did. I thought it was standard practice for a visitor to be naked in that type of environment, when in fact she just wanted to see my tits.
The director saw what was going down and slithered over to talk to me. In hindsight, now that I’m a porn director, I would have done the same thing. Fresh meat walking around the set topless is an easy target. He asked whether I would be interested in doing a scene. I said yes.
This was the beginning of my life as I know it now. A life where I’d never made so much money or had so much freedom. Hollywood became my home and has been ever since. I feel I’ve always belonged in this city. I think a lot of people here feel the same way.
Growing up in rural Maryland, I only knew LA through TV but I never got to visit because my family couldn’t afford to travel. My parents were also super-religious, so I really didn’t get to do much of anything. I saw what happened to people who stayed in my hometown—married with three kids by 25—and I didn’t want to be that. I wanted an exciting and even weird life, far away from my tiny little town. When I turned 18, I started working at a porn shop, and I came across an ad for an alt-porn brand where the girls looked like me. I sent the first nude pic I had ever taken of myself to my favorite director, then I moved to LA, and my life hasn’t been the same since.
I moved to LA seven years ago, new to the adult industry and the city. Life was pretty crazy on arrival: porn parties, making out with strippers at titty bars, and walking around the Hustler store after my movies came out to see if any of the customers recognized me. Not long after getting into the industry, I was nominated for an AVN award for Best New Starlet. It was pretty cool. Fast-forward a few years later: I’ve shaken the Hollywood jitters and found a career in fashion working for American Apparel. My ads are seen all over the world, including a few billboards around town.