Page 91 - Flaunt 170 - The Phoenix Issue - Kiernan Shipka

Taylour Paige Sure, life’s a cycle, but to deviate is so damned cool Written by Eliza Gold Photographed by Andi Elloway Styled by Ade Samuel paradise, in the 2020 mind of taylour paige, means “everyone being kind to one another, to animals. Reveling and basking in ourselves in this beautiful place.” The year prior, Paige worked at a strip club in Los Angeles called Crazy Girls. She always entered before 9pm, when it cost her $50 to go on stage, versus the $75 it cost if a girl arrived after 9pm. “My first night at the club, I wore heels I bought at the Slau- son Super Mall for $50,” she recalls. “A woman named Savage recognized me from the show Hit the Floor and gave me the lay of the land. ‘Don’t talk to that girl, she’ll try and sell you candles that don’t smell. Don’t go in her area ‘cause she’ll trip you.’” That night, Paige didn’t even leave with half of what she spent to work at the club, and she needed the money. She was broke and sleeping on an air mattress in her friend’s living room. How does one endure despair and come out on the other side? In Taylour Paige’s case, the other side is a house in the Hol- lywood Hills, a spirit filled with charm, gratitude, and passion, a determination to be a source of love and light, and a starring role in the Sundance-hit film from A24, Zola, the Jeremy O. Harris and Janicza Bravo-written film, directed by the latter, about a drama-fueled road trip which includes Flaunt alumnus Riley Keough and Succession’s Nicholas Braun. Paige admits that there is no simple answer. ”When some- one asks my background, it’s a weird thing. How do I explain such a winding road?” You start at the beginning, trace each twist and turn, and take inventory of the connections and knowledge gained along the way. The beginning for Paige was in Inglewood, CA, where she was raised by a single mother. “It was rocky at home, so dance was my escape,” she shares. At 12 years old, she got accepted into the Debbie Allen Dance Academy with a scholarship. Paige danced every day after school from 4-8pm, on Saturdays from 9-5 pm, or even later if she was performing in one of the Academy’s traveling musicals. From a young age, Paige was weighed down by questions about the meaning of her life, but performing fueled her with purpose and made her feel free. Dancing ballet, jazz, African, and tap turned on her light, and it was Debbie Allen who showed her how to make people feel valuable. When puberty hit, the dark side of ballet popped up like a tour en l’air, distort- ing the joy and confidence Paige had derived from dancing. “It became a love/hate relationship. I loved ballet, but I had a butt,” she recalls, about the impossible standards that define who or what makes for a proper ballerina. Dancing is both blessed and cursed by perfection. The pres- sure to reach it—constant dieting and incessant comparing—led Paige to resent the practice her life revolved around. And yet, she kept emoting through her body, though at constant odds with it. Persevering was fighting a quiet war, and Paige was a warrior disguised in a leotard. After college she scored a few acting jobs, here enough to land more work, but there enough to need supplemental income. She cleaned houses, worked at a weed dispensary, nannied, taught acting classes to kids, and worked at the front desk of a Barry’s Bootcamp. Nothing felt fulfilling. The vexing questions, what does this all mean and what’s the point anyway, returned like a prying auntie saying you’re wearing that? each time you’re about to leave the house. Miserable, alone, and lost, Paige decided to own it. “I strapped onto the rollercoaster of surrender,” she con- fides. “Once I labeled it, I felt at peace with being in a transi- tional phase.” Paige cites taking walks in upscale residential areas and admiring the homes she would like to live in as a realization exercise. “Walks freed my spirit when I felt scared and unworthy.” Being outside and observing people awakened Paige to understand that she had been carrying baggage that wasn’t hers to shoulder. “A fire burned and opened the tunnel to go inward. On the other side was love. I realized, you’ve got to take you with you. If you don’t love yourself, then what’s the point?” They say where thoughts go, energy flows. In Paige’s wind- ing road towards contentment and success, shortly after she made the choice to surrender, her break arrived. She got cast to star in Zola, a screen adaptation of a viral series of tweets from 2015 that began with, “Y’all wanna hear a story about why me & this bitch here fell out? It’s kind of long but full of suspense.” In the movie, directed by Janicza Bravo, Paige plays Aziah Wells King (nicknamed Zola), a Detroit waitress lured by a customer to spend a weekend in Tampa, Florida where she thinks they will make extra cash dancing in strip clubs, but instead end up on a dangerous sex-trafficking trip. While the real life story behind the film is often cited as stranger than fiction, one of the more strange parts is how closely Paige identified with Aziah, and how timely it was for Paige to form that bond. “We were both going through tran- sitions at the same time,” Paige says about their connection. “Her freedom led me to my freedom. In the club you have to demand your agency to do a good job. Now I’m stepping into my womanhood and my strength, and not being apologetic.” She pauses, and reflects. “I feel a little bit closer to who I want to be.” 85 Sure, life’s a cycle, but to deviate is so damned cool Sure, life’s a cycle, but to deviate is so damned cool PHOTOGRAPHER: ANDI ELLOWAY. STYLIST: ADE SAMUEL AT CROSBY CARTER MANAGEMENT. HAIR: TED GIBSON USING STARRING SHOOTING STAR TEXTURE MERINGUE AT TOMLINSON MANAGEMENT GROUP. MAKEUP: JOANNA SIMKIN AT THE WALL GROUP. MANICURIST: NAOKO SAITA USING CHANEL LE VERNIS AT OPUS BEAUTY.