I’m pooped! Who knew that having your photo taken could be so tiring?
One of the fun things about writing for a living is, occasionally, getting your photograph taken by seasoned professionals, people who fly to the Bahamas for shoots and snap celebrities, not just…you.
Yesterday afternoon I met the photographer, his assistant and the art director. I’d done my own hair and make-up and brought two bathing suits for them to choose from. Our location was my local YMCA.
Yup, I was to be photographed for mass viewing in a bathing suit.
Luckily, I recently bought a gorgeous new suit, a soft coppery colored ruched design that looks like something from the 1940s, and had shed about 15 pounds, so felt much more confident than I might have otherwise. But I am so not a size 0! Or 6 or 8…My left leg might be a size 6.
The shoot took three hours, much of which involved setting up and moving all sorts of accessories for the lighting, from a thin white silk scrim to soften the bounce flash to a metallic stand-alone screen to a white bedsheet. I spent most of the shoot in the pool, getting all wrinkly, demonstrating exercises, reassured that my best bits were visible, the rest semi-obscured by the water.
Then it was time to bring the gorgeous young lifeguard into the picture to pose with me. Lucky again — he’s a dear friend with whom I’ve been playing softball for years — so I felt comfortable looking into his eyes, leaning into him and joking.
I still can’t quite believe I posed in a small amount of wet clothing in front of four men. But the shoot was a lot of fun, relaxed, taught me how to manage my expressions and body from one shot to the next. It also left me with a lot more respect for models. It’s work. Staying focused for hours, taking direction and running through a wide range of poses and expressions is more tiring than you’d imagine.
“That’s a wrap!” they said.
Home for pizza.