CRAWFORD, Judith G

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name judith garnet crawford (nee bradshaw) date of birth 09.25.90 home town Providence, Rhode Island current city Meat Packing District, Manhattan, New York education Brown University . 2 years of a BA occupation entrepreneur (designer of overpriced lingerie) ________________________________________ ________________________________________ "Three things that make me a gold digger. a) My 62 year old husband b) my heels and c) the fact when my husband passed, he left a third of his will to me.  I never actually set out to marry a rich old guy, it just sort of happened. I guess Stephen was an avid watcher of pageants, or maybe he was just flicking through the tv and settled on a random channel. I never really asked. He was there just before I own the big title, Miss USA. I remember receiving a massive bouquet of flowers in my powder room, there was a note attached that said, 'I saw you and I have to have you. Xx Stephen Crawford.' I was flattered, but mostly freaked out by it. At the after party he approached me, and he was charming. Old, but charming, and funny. We went to dinner, and I didn't think anything of it. Then there were diamonds, and roses, and purses, and glamorous vacations. I was used to dating assholes, but Stephen really did treat me like a princess. Yea, he was almost three times my age, but he treated me right. He proposed on my nineteenth birthday, and we were married by December.  I anticipated my life would be ten times more exciting. I don't know why, but I entered the Crawford residence with such high expectations. But I was shunned, left on my own, and with Stephen's VISA card. It's hard to understand unless you're there, but that house was my personal hell. Too big, yet stuffy. My design, but yet it didn't feel like mine. I hated it, I hated living there. I spent as much time away as I could, finding more comfort in a Fendi bag than I did my husband.  I thought I was stuck, and had fucked my life up, I seriously prayed for a way out. And then I got one. Waking up at two in the morning, I noticed he wasn't beside me, so I walked into his office to find him on the floor. Stone dead, heart attack. I was in hysterics, naturally. I wasn't happy he was dead, in many ways he was my closest companion. A lot of people might have thought I was happy, and I am happy to be out of it, but I'm honestly not happy about the way it went down. And the money feels like the fucking plague at this point.  ________________________________________ "Judith Bradshaw is twenty-three. She's my step-mother and I just so you're aware, she's my age. Initially it grossed me out, who am I kidding, it still grosses me out. She waltzed in, wearing a sparkling white gown, and a fucking Miss USA crown, and that was it, dad was smitten. They were married two months later, I was twenty-one.. make the fucking math.  Throughout their short lived marriage, she and I barely conversed.. I'll give her credit, she didn't try mother me or Nick. It was more like she was a house guest, because she essentially was.. like a uninvited rat. Clicking around the house in her Louboutins (which dad paid for), barely leaving a crumb of his money behind. I hardly remember her home, to be honest. She was constantly swiping his visa; at brunch with friends, at various designer shops, out for drinks. I think our closest contact came one weekend, really early in the morning, when I got locked out of the house. She came stumbling down the driveway, heels in her hand. Fortunately, she had a key. We had a conversation at the kitchen island, and I remember thinking, 'wow, we could actually be friends.. if you weren't my age and fucking my dad, you giant gold digging whore.'  Then dad died, and that freed Judith. She scored a good amount of his money, enough to last her a few years. I haven't seen her since the funeral - though she surprisingly sent me an Easter card in April." - Natalie Crawford ________________________________________ ________________________________________ I believe it's worth saying that I never set out to get married before twenty, inherit millions, and become a lingerie designer. I grew up in Providence, with four siblings, and parents that didn't earn a hell of a lot. On weekends I was at pageants, with my overly enthusiastic pageant mom - and trust me, it was more like that TLC than you can imagine. During the week I was working my ass off in school, working towards a seemingly impossible goal, and a better life for myself.. oh Jesus, thinking about it now, I washed away so much for a quick fix, I'm an idiot. It gets even more stupid, I was accepted on scholarship to Brown University, for Biological and Medical Physics - I wanted to research the brain. I was at Brown for two years, I almost stayed.. and I probably would have, had Stephen not handed everything to me on a silver platter.  It's not his fault, it's just far easier to point a finger at someone else. Easier being the keyword. As life got easier, and why work towards a career when I had everything at hand? I'm really quite ashamed I thought that way. I quit school, and aspired other things, I think I lost half a brain as Miss USA. Fucking stupid. I was doing my make-up in my lingerie in front of Stephen, and he said something like, "you look really good in that.. maybe you should design lingerie." As if that's all that was required - looking good in underwear. But with Stephen it was that easy. Setting up an actually designer to help me sketch out an idea, creating it, and flouncing around seductively in my panties for a television crew. I'm embarrassed.  After Stephen's death I still own the brand, though I'm less enthusiastic about it. If I had any regrets (which I so clearly do), I'd have probably stayed in school.  ________________________________________ your name ciara play-by margot robbie your most recent work link to thread

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