“If you had one shot… Would you capture it or just let it slip? Yo.” – Eminem
Only five more days until my professional photo-shoot. I’m very excited. The last time I had a “formal” photograph taken was at The Elvis Chapel in Vegas wearing a Priscilla wig, a rhinestone dress, and working a twenty- foot veil. (This may give you a sense of my understanding of the word “formal.”)
For the book jacket I need something completely different; an image that conveys ebullience, vivacity, and a degree of gravitas; I’m thinking Tina Fey crossed with Whoopi Goldberg with a smidge of Ellen DeGeneres.
I was also thinking that framing would be important, chin on elbow, head cocked to one side sitting at my Louis XVI secretaire replete with old fashioned roses, coffee table books, and the Annie Leibovitz photographs of my kids.
At least that was what I was thinking until I turned my attention to the Fiction Studio house style. Close examination revealed that something approximating a holiday postage stamp is what is actually required; a tiny image barely visible to the naked eye. I looked at other imprints and even Lauren Weisberger, she of The Devil Wears Prada, barely has room to breathe on her photograph.
I was channeling Shania Twain, thinking I’d need these photographs for the posters in Borders’ window and for the side of the bus when we’re doing big city tours and for display on easels at Hollywood book parties. I felt deflated. Borders has gone into liquidation, and I don’t own a bus.
What would Kim Kardashian have done? Would she have lowered her expectations, packed away her Agent Provocateur, and bought a white shirt? I don’t think so. Would Victoria Beckham settle for anything less than a tuxedo and her Yves St Laurent platforms? Of course not. Even a head and shoulders shot starts with the shoes, which is why next Thursday there will be Veuve Cliquot, and dips, and clothes rails, and makeup, and runners, and stylists, and shots at sunset on the beach in Malibu.