My first sitting with one of Jay’s photographers was a disaster.
I didn’t want to be there and quite frankly, I don’t think he did either. He kept flinching every time I made a sudden movement. Needless to say, the proofs turned out horribly:
Finally, my photographer’s immediate mentor walked in and perused over these proofs.
”Oh, mein Gott! Das ist Scheiße!” he shouted, tearing up the proofs and looking up at the entire photography crew. He put one hand on his hip, held up the torn proofs, and demanded, “Who shot zeze?”
My photographer raised his hand.
”Get out und tek your nesty pictuurs mit du!” he screamed throwing the pieces at him. He calmed down a bit, straightened his jacket, and walked over to me.
He eyed me over very carefully, taking my chin and turning my head this way and that, with an occasional “uh ha, uh ha”. He fingered my hair as if to find something alive in it then walked around me before stopping again in front of me. He finally brightened considerably, snapped his heels, and held out his hand in welcome
“Gutten tag,” he said. I took his hand and shook it. “I em Hans Volkshutters,” he said with a thick German accent. “I understand you are a Siz Lord, ja?”
I just nodded.
”Mmmm,” he said. “I sink vee can do a little better zan zat,” he motioned in the direction of the photographer that just left. He looked off to the crew and snapped his fingers: three people appeared at his side.
”Take her avay and mek her beeeutifool,” he said, making a “shoo shoo” gesture with one of his hands.
”Listen, I’m exhausted, can’t we do this tomorrow?” I asked.
He looked at me thinking a moment, tapping his chin then asked. “Perhaps you need a little inspiration?”
I scowled. “What type of inspiration?”
”Bring in ze BeckHAM!” he yelled. “Will zis do?”
(gratuitous beefcake shot for us ladies)
”Absolutely!” I said.
David and I were bustled out of the room and to a salon where I was dyed and combed and trussed and made up and perfumed and so on. At the end of it I felt like one of those fine tea cakes at a party that you are afraid to eat.
After a few more sets in front of the camera, I thought we were about done. But once again, I saw Hans looking at the initial proofs and shaking his head.
“Nein, nein,” he said over and over again as he looked through them all. I thought they were great, but he looked at me.
”What’s wrong with them?” I asked, picking up one and looking at it.
I was tired and ready for it to be over. He came over to me and took me by the shoulders.
”You are Siz Lord, ja?” he asked. Again I nodded.
”You are power….und strength….not zis….zis….sex kitten….wis all zees skin” he stammered. “Everyvon already knowz you are a tigress in ze bedroom….”
”What do you mean everyone already knows?” I asked, taking to my feet and putting my hands on my hips.
”Vell….vord gets arount, you know?” he smiled sheepishly. He sidled up to me and nudged me with his elbow, raising his eyebrows a bit. “Zese gladiators talk, you know?”
”Zo,” he said quickly changing the subject, “What ve vant to do eez to show a softer side of ze Siz, but one that is also powerful. Ja?”
”What did you have in mind?” I asked, giving him a sideways glance.
He became visibly excited at this and clapped his hands together. “Oh, I am zo glet you esked….” And he dragged me off into the salon where we spent more time and effort working on my appearance. Except he had the mirrors removed from the room and would not let me see myself before hand.
I was not especially happy about the clothes picked out for me, but he and the rest of the crew seemed quite pleased.
One more photo session later and I was totally exhausted. I collapsed on the floor in my dressing room and was immediately handed some type of alcoholic drink. I quickly downed it and sat the glass down and took a heavy sigh.
Shortly after that, Hans walked into my room and sees me there. Quickly ducking back out to retrieve his camera, she snapped a quick shot of me on the floor. Putting the camera around his neck, he held his hand out to help me off the floor.
”Come,” he said, “I sink you vill like zees much better.”
He took me to the light table and showed me the first proofs of our sessions, leaving me a lone. He was right….he did a phenomenal job:
But then he walked over and handed me the quick snap he took of me just a few minutes before.
”I sink zees vill do,” he said as he passed it to me.