My dad used to take my younger sister Whitney and I to the firing range, and he'd stand behind us as we shot. We were tiny, tiny girls, only about ten years old at the time, so the recoil when we pulled the trigger would send us flying backwards. But he'd stand behind us and make sure we were safe.
I grew up driving old pickup trucks on the ranch with my dad, and I still always find myself driving like I'm out in an open field, except I'm in LA on La Cienega in the middle of rush-hour traffic.
I grew up in Texas, and people love their American-made muscle cars there. I grew up around people who loved cars and took care of cars and my dad's a big car nut, so I learned a little bit about cars - how to love them, most importantly. I think that from the time I could remember, I've always envisioned myself in a vintage muscle car.
I don't shoot anything. I could never kill an animal. My dad does all the hunting, and he eats everything that he kills.
