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“Take off your shoes and leggings, it will give a more timeless look if that’s what you’re concerned about. I didn’t plan to do anything with the test shots from today but since you’re so attached to the idea, I will give them to you at the end.”
I hate him so much right now. A little warning sure would have been nice. I would be lying if I said I didn't find BK attractive. In a "He's so annoying I want to kill him but at least he's nice to look at" sort of way. I think for a moment, trying to decide if this is a line I want to cross. I oblige against my better judgment and I wish I had put on more than mascara and lip gloss before coming.
“I have no clue what I am doing here. I don’t know the first thing about posing or even looking like a normal human in front of the camera,” I babble, trying to keep my balance as I tug off my socks, tucking them into my shoes.
“I don’t think I have taken a selfie since they added the word to the dictionary,” I attempt to explain my hesitations without seeming ungrateful for the chance to learn. I know I will regret what I am about to do but it’s just a human body, right? He has seen a million women’s bodies before, mine will go into the pile of the forgettable.
I fold my leggings quickly and add them to the pile with my stripped socks and Toms. The deep red tunic hung to the top of my thighs, the back touching just under my butt. At least I am wearing underwear!
“Woman, stand over here. The point of this exercise is to show you how to communicate with your model. This isn’t about the final product so stop bitching that you can’t do this. You can.” He points to the taped-out X on the floor where he has already plotted out the optimal lighting.
“Carter, you have no idea the things this outfit is doing for your figure. We are going to get some great looks,” he says to me softly and I instantly feel my cheeks pinking from his words. I would barely classify a short-sleeved tunic and a fabric scrap they call a thong, as an outfit.
“Stepone,buildingconfidencein your subject. Compliment them, reassure them you know it will be a success. If they come into it all nervous and lacking that confidence, you will see it all over their face in every image.” Well, that explains his off-kilter niceties to Lacey. I try to control my face from looking disappointed that his words were part of the lesson and not genuine. I fail hard at controlling my face.
“Step two, get them moving around the space. Of course, I would love for you to stay on the spot I marked because I know the lights will hit you just right, but I am also willing to play against the shadows if the mood strikes. I do this by asking them for some test shots, like a warm-up.”
I take what he is saying and start moving my body to different angles. I have no clue if they look anywhere near decent, but I work on trying to absorb the knowledge he is finally sharing with me instead of worrying over the final images.
I point my hips away from him, looking over my shoulder slightly and tilting my head back to avoid any no-neck monsters. I learned that from Tyra during all of my America's Next Top Model binges for research.
After a few flashes of the lights all on me, he glances over the viewfinder and I stop instantly.
“Crap, what did I do wrong?” The panic was instantly evident on my face.
“No, nothing wrong, you’re doing great. And no, I’m not just trying to pull a step one on you. You should be in front of the camera more often, it suits you.”
Why does it seem like he could read the hesitation right off my face?
“Do you have a stool or something? I feel like that would melt well with this scene. Maybe a wooden one? Or even steel to mimic the metal structure of the beams?”
“Step three, accept direction from your model to continue building their trust and confidence. Even if their idea sucks, run with it for a few shots because who the fuck knows it might work out in the end.” He justifies as he grabs a stool from behind a column that I totally didn’t notice before.
I start by sitting on it, arching forward towards my feet to see what kind of interesting poses I can make with my body. Then, I lay it down on its side. He raises an eyebrow, a typical look for him as if to say ‘What the heck are you doing now’.
I pose behind it, giving him a way to shoot my pose through the posts of the stool, giving an even more complex vision of how architecture and the female body can be beautiful together. I alternate looking directly at him through the lens and looking introspective with my eyes anywhere but there.
My body even decides to try laying across it. The flashes follow me around, BK moving lower and raising the camera higher to capture different angles, evoking a range of moods and looks. He directs me slightly, but for the most part, he is a silent observer, capturing whatever I give him. I can’t stay in that pose for long and I think he senses my discomfort.
“Step four, watch the body language and expressions of your subject. If they are uncomfortable or not feeling it, time to change it up. So, I want to try something different,” he interjects, grabbing his tripod and securing the camera tightly to the top. He presses a few buttons and then I see a blinking signal before the lights surrounding me flash. He is next to me in seconds, pushing his body close to mine.
“Since the Ovis shoot has some spreads with a pair of models, you should practice posing not one but two people,” he whispers as if someone might hear. “We will have five seconds between each picture, it will move fast so keep your flow. I’ll try and keep up,” he says as the flash goes off.
I turn away from him, raising my hand around to grip the back of his neck, arching my back into him. I am very much rubbing my butt against my boss and I am absolutely not wearing pants. The flash ignites and I reposition, this time reaching my hand around his hip to grip the back of his thigh.
Another flash.
He moves this time, his large hand now around the front of my neck, coaxing me to lean my head back onto his chest.
Click.
I turn my body to face him without letting our eyes meet.
Flash.
He grips my braids behind my back, giving them a slight tug to pull my head back away from him.
Click.
