June 12, 201411 yr I actually love her in clothes too, though I prefer when she wears colour just because she wears so much dark/neutral/broody looking stuff to appearances.
June 16, 201411 yr Probably already on here but I didn't feel like browsing through all the pages to find out. This is Emily around 15 or 16 years old. Where's the rest from this shoot…dammit. http://www.imagebam.com/image/855328333542355
June 17, 201411 yr was looking for videos of tereza kacerova and look what i found instead... Good find!
June 21, 201411 yr Emily Ratajkowski's July GQ Cover is Coming >> http://www.gq.com/blogs/the-feed/2014/06/emily-ratajkowskis-july-gq-cover-is-coming.html?mbid=social_twitter_gqmagazine
June 22, 201411 yr Hey, she's with Dean + Dan in the last pic. That would be great if she did a runway for them.
June 24, 201411 yr Here's the full editorial! Yes, her edit is just two exclamation points for a title. GQ USA July 2014 "!!" shot by Michael Thompson Credit: FSR Digital and Hot Fudge Holey Moley!
June 24, 201411 yr Here's the full editorial! Yes, her edit is just two exclamation points for a title. GQ USA July 2014 "!!" shot by Michael Thompson Credit: FSR Digital and Hot Fudge Holey Moley! Partial Nudity Nice video http://video.gq.com/watch/gq-covers-emily-ratajkowski-the-new-queen-of-summer
June 24, 201411 yr Thanks VampireHorde !! MORE GQ.com Emily Ratajkowski: The Bombshell of Summer It's been a year since EmRata parlayed a one-day gig on a Robin Thicke video into worldwide mega-bombshell status, and she would like to thank you, men of earth, for all the love. But could you maybe stop telling her she's "the hottest bitch in this place"? I know how it looks, but cross my heart, there was no place else for me to sit. My name card had an assigned table, and my assigned table had just one spot left, right next to a stranger I happened to recognize. Actually, that's underselling it. When I realized who it was, I U-turned and walked to an empty corner of the restaurant, where I mumbled gratitudes near a plant. This was during a moment, a space of a few weeks last November, when Emily Ratajkowski had gone mass. "Blurred Lines," the Robin Thicke song and video with which she'd announced herself to the planet, had sealed its slot as the tune of 2013; as a direct result, she'd been cast in David Fincher's Gone Girl. What Fincher saw in Emily (besides the obvious) was what everyone saw: a hammy sense of self-possession that upstaged the other models and musicians in the video, creating this iris effect that pretty much forced you to zero in on her. For the rest of the year, all 97 billion times that "Blurred Lines" played on KIIS-FM or in RadioShack or during a ballplayer's stroll to the plate, it was Emily who popped into mind. It's a weird thing, though, getting famous this way—"associated with a song," she would later tell me, "that I didn't write or sing. A song I'm going to deal with for the rest of my life, even though the video was a one-day job." At the dinner, Emily was wearing a black dress, and her mouth had the bright, clear-coat finish of a sports car. She talked with a couple of other models for the early part of the meal, and the first thing I heard her say was: "Oh, my God, you are such a Gemini!" Right. A beauty on the outside but an astrologer deep down. At a lull, I floated the name of a mutual friend. She seemed not miffed to have to talk to me about this friend. And so we got into other things. Mostly related to the California she grew up in, a few years later and two hours south of the California I grew up in. Her voice—"totally," "oh, fer sure," "chillest," "trip me out," "gnarly," "duh!"—was low and easy, coming at half-speed playback, sorta like a Laguna Beach character before she joined The Hills. But then: "Have you seen Blue Jasmine yet? Most people I know hated it, but I loved it. I feel like, in Cate, he finally found the right vessel for his neuroses." And: "Let me tell you why The Corrections is a better book than Freedom." And: "I'm trying out a bunch of Bolaño. I always feel weird reading stuff that I know has been translated, but it seems to flow pretty well, pretty authentically." Was it unfair to expect otherwise? Oh, probably. Psychologists call that False Assumptions About Women You've Seen Super-Naked Before You Talk to Them in Person. By the time I found myself lying about having read some recent New Yorker short story she liked, whatever surprise I experienced at the outset had faded. The whole situation was very amusing to other people I knew at the dinner. The next day, there emerged some surreptitiously taken photos of me next to Emily—me doing my hilarious impression of nasally SoCal surfers, she squinting with skepticism—that capture nicely what it looks like to be drowning in the deep end. The small house she grew up in is on a hill across from the ocean, all salt-eaten siding and half-size rooms, probably 900 square feet if you don't count the converted shed out back she moved into when she turned 15. "Until then, I shared a wall with my parents," she says. "Which would've been okay if my dad hadn't ripped the ceiling out to expose the beams." The walls still cut off at eight feet and give the house the feeling of a diorama. "So I spent a lot of time with headphones on. They knew I was getting a text even when my phone was on silent, because it'd light up the house." It's not many steps from one end of the house to the other, so we end up out back, among bougainvillea and Dad's art, where she describes how comfortable she was growing up here in San Diego. (This still throws people: "Because of my name and my look, it's sometimes: 'Wow, I expected broken English or a British accent.' ") Dad, a painter, taught art at a high school in Encinitas, and Mom, an English professor, commuted up the coast to Cal Poly San Luis Obispo. When it came time for high school, her parents encouraged her to opt out of the massive, wealthy public school "where they had football" and instead go to the smaller, magnet school where her father taught. "My dad had a cool rep. But it was a little overwhelming when, like, 'Do you think Mr. Rata smokes weed?' became 'What about Rata's hot daughter?' " Emily enrolled at UCLA with plans to paint—and to pay for her tuition with modeling checks. Her roommates were five blondes bent on joining sororities. "The day we moved in," she says, "one of them asked, 'Oh, are you rushing?' And my dad said, 'Um, no, we're Polish.' " She didn't love her program, and as the modeling opportunities kept coming, she spent more and more time away from the classroom. "I wouldn't say it was for a shoot, but I'd be like, 'Later! Going to Puerto Rico for a week,' " she recalls. "My professors hated me." She dropped out after a year, rented an apartment in downtown L.A., and strung together the sorts of jobs you can only call stepping-stones once you know the destination is a Fincher movie. Sauce-heavy Carl's Jr. ads. Top- and bottomless black-and-whites for L.A. "art" mags. In January 2013, she got a call about a music video. "I didn't want to do it at first, but I talked to the director and I understood what it was," she says. I ask if she even likes the song. "I do like it. But if there's one thing I'd request, it's for people who see me out to not be, like, You're the hottest bitch in this place. When it comes on in a bar, I run into the bathroom and hide." Last September she heard from a casting director for Gone Girl, David Fincher's adaptation of Gillian Flynn's best-selling thriller. "I was talking with Ben [Affleck], and what I wanted for the Andie role was someone who could be incredibly divisive among men and women in the audience," Fincher says. Andie is the writing student and mistress of Affleck's character, Nick, who calls her "an alien fuck-doll of a girl...as different from my elegant, patrician wife as could be." Fincher continues, "We needed somebody where, at the moment she appears, the women are going, 'That is unconscionable and despicable.' And you also have the men going, 'Yes, but...' And so Ben said, 'Yeah, like the girl in the "Blurred Lines" video.' " Let it be noted that Affleck handpicked the woman with whom he'd endure Fincher's "several dozen takes" of make-out sessions. "She was just incredibly mature," Fincher says. "She wasn't smitten with being the girl of the moment. She's no bullshit. If somebody's gonna ruin their life on a 21-year-old, they have to be special, and she was." The casting opened up all sorts of lines. Good enough for Fincher means good enough for, say, the upcoming Entourage movie. "That show's always been so funny to me," she says. "I'm playing myself, and they've got me in an Aston Martin. I drive a Nissan Versa and would never spend real money on a car, because I destroy things. So there's this weird version of yourself. Hollywood fetishizing you and itself—this box within a box. There is winter in L.A., there is rain in L.A. But there is no rain on Entourage." After wrapping up at the house, we drive down to the water and through Encinitas—the last of the beach towns, she calls it, "even though there's a Whole Foods on 101 now." Couples pedal beach cruisers from one margarita to the next; hot rods run the main drag. A "self-realization center," where Emily's dad used to pick up babes back in his bachelor days, cuts a figure like a Vegas Taj Mahal on the southern edge of town. We head to the beach—the "secret, un-touristy, un-douche beach" called Stonesteps. There are in fact stone steps, hundreds of them, in a sort of Escher zag up the cliffside. Guys charging up and down steal glimpses of the slinky cotton dress Emily's black moto jacket struggles to conceal. We sit at the top with a killer panorama of the water, and I ask her what a photographer might say about why her pictures work. "I think it was Mario Testino who said when you look at a photo of Kate Moss, you feel like you're looking at a real person. And that's something that I hope would come through in my photos, maybe more than what you would see in another model." >> http://www.gq.com/entertainment/celebrities/201407/emily-ratajkowski PHOTOGRAPHS MICHAEL THOMPSON GIF
June 24, 201411 yr Funny how the article makes zero mention of her Sports Illustrated work. There's a slightly feint reference to her Treats shoots (the article refers to it as "art" magazines) but everything is pretty much a Robin Thicke love letter.
June 24, 201411 yr = http://dfiles.eu ~ http://filefactory.com [057,50 Mo ; 01 min 18 sec ; 1280x720 ; .avi] >>> GQ 2014
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