After years of waiting and staring at my phone… I finally got the call. The call I knew would change my life forever.
I was wanted, the photographer said – NAY – NEEDED for a photo shoot (that would skyrocket my modest existence into the world of fame and obviously fortune I knew I was destined for). I cleared my throat, and through muffled sobs of joy, said ‘Yeah, sure, whatever, I guess.’
I slipped into celebrity-mode the very next day.
“CHOCOLATE COVERED STRAWBERRIES!” I screamed as I entered any/all places of business, wildly snapping my fingers (communicating how important I am). I adorned myself in vintage furs, rhinestones, gold teeth and darkened sunglasses (providing commoners with visual ‘fame’ cues). I sighed loudly, groaned and rolled my eyes when people greeted me (displaying a cool indifference to life) and I asked every person I came into contact with if they could ‘GET ARMANI ON THE PHONE – I NEED TO SPEAK WITH ARMANI!’ (broadcasting importance/worth).
After eight months, I had lost all of my friends, my day job and was banned from thirteen restaurants – I knew I was ready.
We scheduled (I demanded – asserting dominance) the shoot to take place at the end of October (to prevent unnesseary droopage – I only shoot in the fall/winter months. Nothing like a brisk chill to help keep those breasts perky).
***Sidenote: Photographers love to receive and work within any and all of your demands. The more demands you have, the more profesisonal you come across.
I made sure to be surly and difficult throughout the day – complaining about everything from the colors of the leaves to the photographer’s aura. I belittled the hired help whenever I could (reinforcing the hierchy) and popped multiple bottles of champagne during each style change (although this left me in a lot of debt, it looked dope AND made life difficult for the stylist as she tried to change me into new looks – so win-win).
All in all – the shoot was a magical success. The assistants left early due to nervous breakdowns, the photographer vowed to never photograph me again (completely typical outcome in the ‘industry’) and I was stranded in a field, surrounded by hundreds of champagne corks with no ride home.
It was perfect.
In truth – I was fortunate enough to be included in this ‘lil shoot with the scrumptious ‘Ella Haus Photography’. She is incredible and such a treat to work (play?) with. She had an outline for what she was envisioning and made it easy to follow along. She sourced a hair stylist (Holly) and some clothing items from Hunnis and Unika… and the rest we sorted out ourselves. I conveniently had a sweet friend who is very generous with her pony… Who fortunately was taking a break from Vogue and was able to give us a hand.
The whole experience was chilly, full of uncertainty, outside-of-the-comfort-zone (sultry? Me?), wild amounts of fun, pretty clothes, mucho resting-b*tch-face and so many, MANY thorns in the footsies. Totes. Worth. It. I mean, it’s all downhill from here surely… best capture it while we can!
Thank you Ang for making my ‘why so serious?’ look so purrrddyyyy!