Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Mind the T-Zones...


Yesterday I spent my day on-set at a photo shoot for the website where I work. Technically I was there because I'd enlisted a friend as a model and I wanted to make sure she was all set up, but it turned into something more.

I've worked on video shoots before where I've run around like crazy helping out by washing bowls, prepping ingredients, or fetching things when really I'm suppose to be watching the script and making edits as Holley, our talent, modifies bits and pieces of her lines to fit her personality. I love it. Chaos and hubbub that I can totally immerse myself in, then leave on someone else's doorstep at five when I go home.

The photo shoot was different. I've been the subject of shoots before (I have long fingers, great for holding soup bowls), but never on the other side. Honestly, I tried not to take over. There was a photographer, two editors, a lighting guy, and a stylist (for the food), so heaven knows they didn't need me to prop or stage. The "talent," however, was another story.

I have trouble getting myself ready in the morning, and that's with my (fairly) limited wardrobe and the knowledge that I don't have to match anyone else all day. These five girls, however, not only had to dress out of season (we're shooting for the holiday), but also had to complement and not clash with the other models, as well as worry about what colors would be in the shot. We couldn't very well have three people in orange for the wrapping paper shoot where everything was red. Oh, and they couldn't wear prints, white, or black. Simple enough? We'll see.

Basically, my coworker E and I played dress-up, holding up clothes to the girls, to each other, to the light, to the wrapping paper, and hustling everyone into place at the last minute (have you ever tried to hold hot chocolate for a long time when it's 104 degrees outside? Last minute is key.)

One of the editors on set, A, started calling me the hair and makeup girl when I whipped out my hairbrush (flyaways) and hairspray (static), and touching up everyone's T-zones with loose powder. Little did she know that she hit on my earliest passion: hairstyling. I didn't have time to give these girls the same rocked-out updos that my barbies suffered in the 80s, but I did enjoy the little fixing here and there.

The best part? The lighting guy thought I did it for a living and, wouldn't you know it, he's a photographer with his own business shooting "country music guys who are big, or who think they're pretty big." He said he's always looking for someone to help on the shoot. I gave him my card and told him to give me a shout if I could ever help. Who knows? Maybe that first dream will be realized after all...

1 comment:

ckp said...

my first passion is hairstyling, too.

don't ya know, at the end of my senior year, it came down to either that lovely place where we met OR the n-ville school of beautetics. thank goodness we both made sacrifices...

i like being completely anonymous on your blog.

i like YOU better!