Photoshoots - why would anyone want to be a pro photographer or model? Sounds glamorous, but in reality it's a cold, dull way of turning several hours into 1/500th of a second of airbrushed insipidness. And that's if the photographer/model/weather doesn't let you down.
You'd think digital cameras that let you see what you've snapped instantly (plus the knowledge that Photoshop can hide more sins than a Catholic priest) would mean a photoshoot was done and dusted quicker than a Big Mac. My stepmum was a model, and back in black and white I had to occasionally hang around while she looked lovingly into a long lens. It really was like a scene from Austin Powers - bloke in a cravat and flouncy shirt camped it up with a camera quickly enough to make the pub before last orders.
So snappers, tell me this - was my childhood self so fascinated with fashion shoots that the hours only seemed like minutes? Or are those faded pics of Twiggy/Shrimpton/Hepburn just low quality tat that bears no comparison to the hi-res delights offered by today's WH Smiths?
Still, hope you enjoy the lovely results in Benzina #2 - only got to wait 'till June...