It’s 10am on a manically roasting morning and I’m fully made up-face, eyes, hair and to top it all, I’m wearing a classy summer dress. I look chic and elegant and most definitely not myself. Like I’m preparing for an interview or something serious like that-which, in a way, I suppose I am.
Now I’ve got your curiosity properly piqued. So I’ll tell all. Together with a friend and fellow writer, I’m having myself professionally shot by a photographer friend at her house in less than a hour. How’s that then-impressive or what?
What do you mean, write in plain English? I’m using this phrase because this is the way real professionals speak. They ‘shoot’ people and objects and use drapes and screens and backdrops.They also use big umbrella lookalikes which do wonders apparently with light. They look grave and stare into the camera lens, muttering about reflections and shadows. They also ‘blast you out of it’, won’t shoot thumbs under any circumstances and tell you the shot is ‘interesting’ when they really mean, it’s dire. It’s all very technical really so don’t get too hung up about it.
But to get back to the professional shoot(professional shoot- my goodness, it’s got such a lovely, kind of exalted, ring to it, don’t you think?) we had a great time. We smiled, looked mysterious and enigmatic, gazed away into the midde distance reflectively, pirouetted, pouted. We also did seductive, sort of sexy ones which Viv, our photographer friend declared ‘very interesting’ before promptly deleting them altogether. Clearly, the world is not ready for us doing seduction just yet.
We tried to do the mammogram pose, but it was too dangerous without a nurse present. It’s very hard to keep one’s shoulders back, breasts forward, stand on tiptoe with one leg while thrusting the other underneath one’s hip, while simultaneously tilting one’s head to the left and keeping eyes fixed on the camera in centre, without risking the very real possibility of doing oneself enormous damage. And with the health service in the shocking state it’s in, it’s better not to draw any injuries on oneself, if one can at all help it.
So now thanks to the make up, the chic dresses and tops, the freshly washed hair, but above all to the skill of photographer Viv Buckley and her miracle camera, we’re getting right notions of ‘upperosity’ about ourselves, so we are. Shure, isn’t that the reason, I’m swanning around on the sofa on a seriously torrid day with a flawlessly made up face. It’s also why I’m refusing to put my nose outside the door for fear the stuff will begin to melt on me and I’ll end up looking like a seriously diseased panda about to become extinct.
My debut collection of short stories will be launched in the autumn and an author photo was needed for the book. A sincere thank you to our good friend, digital artist and photographer Viv Buckley, for her patience, time, good humour and skill at this morning’s session.