The photo shoot was a slight disappointment. I didn’t expect it to go perfectly, although I strongly wished it had. This was my very first, and most likely my last, professional photo shoot for a publication. Of course, I wanted it to go as I’d always dreamed it would. But when they emailed me that hair and makeup would be minimal and that they wanted us in our “natural state” and to arrive with freshly cleaned, dry hair sans any styling products, I was confused. My hair is naturally curly. If I wash out all of my natural oils and don’t replace them with any, my hair is not going to dry, um… beautifully. My natural state, sans product would look sort of cave womanish. And then, trying to style my naturally curly hair while dry would be an even worse disaster. Couple that with my shoot location being the beach, and I was sure to have a dry, frizzy, salty-headed mess. So, I decided it might be best to straighten my tresses and trust that the stylist could do some minor maintenance. I still followed the rules and put nothing in my hair, hoping that the stylist would at least spritz me with a little holding spray.
Now, my company’s annual picnic at Universal Studios was the same day as the shoot so by the time I left the picnic, 4.5 hours later, my hair was not at its best and I was dead tired. Still optimistic though, I high stepped it into the studio smiling and warm-spirited. This was going to be a great, once in a lifetime experience J
I was the first of the last 3 women to be shot that day – the first to be shot on the beach and the 3rd to the last to be shot since 6am that morning. It was 4pm when I arrived and the crew was still somewhat upbeat, cha-cha-sliding to the cha-cha-slide song that came on the radio and drinking wine. I got my hair and makeup done simultaneously so I couldn’t see a thing that was happening to me. But from the feel of things I was getting much more than minimal makeup and much less than minimal styling. The stylist flat ironed my hair a bit more to remove the excess waves that I had sweated into my hair while traipsing around Universal Studios and riding roller coasters, then she created two tiny braids on each side of my head and connected them in the back. The makeup artist painted a Picasso on my face. She used wet makeup and a soft brush, covering every inch of my face from ear to ear, and scalp to chin. I barely recognized myself when she was done and my hair had zero pizzazz. Yet, still hopeful, I smiled and followed the crew 1.5 blocks down to the beach in nothing but a pair of flip flops, my robe and my panties. All eyes seemed to be on us – and particularly me, the girl in her robe and a ton of makeup.
Despite the somewhat muggy day on Saturday, the beach was jam packed and I was instructed to ignore everyone and just be a model. They wrapped a blanket around me and changed me out of my robe and into a thin piece of fabric right there at the waters edge and soon enough, I had forgotten about all of the people watching. Mainly because of all the direction I was being given by Tomiko, the real model, and Natiya, the photographer.
“Turn left… rest your eyes… stop squinting… back up a bit… imagine you’re an island girl… where are you? …Feel unbound… try not to get the fabric wet…”
Then, after a wave suddenly plowed into all of us and wet the bottom of my fabric dress, they asked me why I was running from the water 0_0 By this time, my hair was a mess and I didn’t know whether to turn left, right, pose, jump, smile, or cry. My bangs had lost their curl and my hair felt like straw from the salty beach air.
“Let’s give her beach hair!” they said, and then proceeded to take down the tiny little braids the stylist had connected in the back of my head. “Toss your hair, bend over.” So I did and my hair went wild with the wind. “You want to do that? O_o , Oh. Okay,” exclaimed Tomiko, the real supermodel. I was thoroughly confused and could only imagine how horrible my pictures looked because of this beach hair and my frozen poses.
Although the photographer made me feel beautiful while I was standing there being shot, as soon as I was done I felt like I hadn’t done my best and needed a do-over, this time knowing precisely what to do (mainly, my own hair!). But after about 20 frames, my time was up. My once in a lifetime opportunity had passed in the span of 1.5 hours. Then it was time for my interview on camera - unscripted, totally raw and totally cringe-worthy in hindsight, lol. And, as a bonus, this interview will be played during the books launch party in October. Egads! I'm already embarrassed just thinking about it.
I won’t get to see my pictures until about 2-3 weeks from now, and I won’t get to pick or know which picture they are picking for the book until publication. The anticipation has been killing me since the moment I left the beach. I don’t have a good feeling about my shots, mainly due to my hair being a fly away mess and not knowing how I was posed in each picture. I’ll just have to wait in agony, I suppose. Or just forget the whole thing even happened.
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