So, today I spent all day in London. My mate Nova requested my involvement in a shoot her and a bunch of her photographer bezzies have been planning for a while.
The shoot was unofficial, it's purpose was to suite our individual agendas. My agenda was to get My steam punk pilot hat and Mink Ass's photographed as many 'photographers' have 'tried' but failed. I never appear to have much luck with Bristolian photographers and as a general rule I have little faith in photographers that earn a living taking pictures in clubs or dealing K.
Anyway, we went to location really early, it was still dark. Our base was in London's oldest riverside tavern The Prospect of Whitby, Circa 1552. Once upon a time it was so hardcore, it was called The Devil's Tavern. Neither-less the place was something straight out of A christmas carol, there were roaring open fires, flagstone flooring and and it's own gallows, equiped with a noose out the rear...No seriously... Displayed is a plack detailing how the Pub's original attraction and entertainment was to watch a hanging whilst enjoying a bevvy. I must suggest this to my manager. People want public hangings, not Dubstep.
The first location was on the "beach" which is a poetic way to describe a landscape scattered with pebbles and stones covered in think sludge along the bank of the Thames. This sludge, 2 parts mud/8 parts human filth, stuck like glue to all our boots, We all thought this location was the shit, we didn't realise we would end up covered in it. We spent most of the day bare footed inside as our filthy shit covered boots remained by the door.
It was originally planed to use Pixie Geldof and Louis Siminon to model but he totally bailed so we used a Australian human thoroughbred called Benjamin Ashley.
The theme and overall style of shoot was Steampunk, which, just incase you don't know, Steampunk is a style that Topshop hasn't found and destroyed yet. My role was to deliver and integrate my trademark dead things. Bubbles had already done a mother load of a press run.
Though a selected few pieces were epic, most of the Vivienne Westwood gear was pretty gash. Most of it looked as if it was designed my Lulu Ferrari for Tammy circa '98 Which is totally ew on the maige scale.
Midday Approached and everyone started to wither and enter premature hybernation. Nova cloaked her self inside her Persian lamb (jealous) as Benjamin was face down on the table crashed out. I suggested to bubbles that she check Pixie's pulse for signs of life just incase she had caught Thames-germs or something.
We all had an extended break and ate expensive but palatally orgasmic grub. We all collective became bored and besides, it started getting dark at like... 3pm so we called it a day and pissed off home.
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