About a year and a half ago, I shot with famed photographer, Terry Richardson.
Actually, I didn’t just shoot.
I called Blaire, my buddy Mikel Monroe and, makeup/hair stylist, Jag Adore and paraded down to the photography studio just steps away from Santa Monica beach.
I was nervous.
I had been tucked away in my mini-mans on the hill for years and was suffering from a horrible bought of low self-esteem. I was stuck in an abusive marriage and had lost about 30 pounds and all my swag. After being told by my husband, for so many years, that I was nothing and that no one liked me, I believed it.
So, I stayed in the house and away from the flashing lights that come with my job. I was sure I would never leave the house, again!
But, when I received a call from Terry Richardson Studios, I had to make a decision.
There I was, sitting in the parking lot of my son’s school, waiting for the school bell to ring like all the other unassuming housewives, when my phone rang, first.
If this were any other photographer asking to shoot me, I would have said no. But this was Terry Richardson and it would be an honor to say he’d shot me, even once.
So, I mustered up the courage, downed a handful of feel-good prescription pills, chugged a pitcher of Red Bull and Vodka and stumbled into the studio — on high.
I was a mess…
…to be continued
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Editing behind-the-scenes footage from the Drink Fuck Sleep cover shoot…
The cover shoot for Drink Fuck Sleep was, ummm, amazing.
