As a disclaimer ill put it out there that some of you in SG land might be fashion loving people.. most of you not.
For 'fashion' is a total fuking shitfight.
take just now. Its 835PM and im in my studio editing my pics, listening to gary numan and having a good ole time.. I know that theres some crew in the main studio that have had a 'show' on all week (its fashion week here in Sydney), so I decide, nice and neighbourly, ( my studio is a shared artists space) to go by and say hey, for most of the peeps here have headed home and the midnight oil is burning..
So such is my day to day that i work for some big fashion guys and girls here in Aus and without sounding like a prat, they are the big peeps around town. Im used to being a nobody on set and a facilitator to the evil editorial empire(s) of publishing, trust me im cool with it.. I dont want to be the next big thing, though at the high level we have our teams of hair/makeup/stylists/lighting assistants and we work tight you know, we know our shit etc.. we get along and know our place..
The thing that gets me going is these fuking pre madonnas in Sydney that have their heads shoved so far up their ass they cant see the light shining out of said asshole..
BITCH, your rich mummy and daddy (no doubt) paid for all your materials, your car, your apartment, your studies and your cross shitsu/schnauser's daily bread.. DONT roll your fuking eyes at me cos your drinking 'champagne' (we call it sparkling white wine..) on a wednesday night cos your shit isnt tight enough to get you noticed..
Fuk you. to you, New York, Paris, Milano is a place you put on your oversize T shirts you sell at the markets, inspiration is copying ideas someone has already done and the developing world where you source your labour to 'excerise your creative outlet' is somewhere you'll never go because 'its dirty and hot and they're so poor and dirty'
Dont worry though, daddy has a Porsche and your 'connected'...
ahem.. thats my rant for the evening.. back to the midnight oil..
c
For 'fashion' is a total fuking shitfight.
take just now. Its 835PM and im in my studio editing my pics, listening to gary numan and having a good ole time.. I know that theres some crew in the main studio that have had a 'show' on all week (its fashion week here in Sydney), so I decide, nice and neighbourly, ( my studio is a shared artists space) to go by and say hey, for most of the peeps here have headed home and the midnight oil is burning..
So such is my day to day that i work for some big fashion guys and girls here in Aus and without sounding like a prat, they are the big peeps around town. Im used to being a nobody on set and a facilitator to the evil editorial empire(s) of publishing, trust me im cool with it.. I dont want to be the next big thing, though at the high level we have our teams of hair/makeup/stylists/lighting assistants and we work tight you know, we know our shit etc.. we get along and know our place..
The thing that gets me going is these fuking pre madonnas in Sydney that have their heads shoved so far up their ass they cant see the light shining out of said asshole..
BITCH, your rich mummy and daddy (no doubt) paid for all your materials, your car, your apartment, your studies and your cross shitsu/schnauser's daily bread.. DONT roll your fuking eyes at me cos your drinking 'champagne' (we call it sparkling white wine..) on a wednesday night cos your shit isnt tight enough to get you noticed..
Fuk you. to you, New York, Paris, Milano is a place you put on your oversize T shirts you sell at the markets, inspiration is copying ideas someone has already done and the developing world where you source your labour to 'excerise your creative outlet' is somewhere you'll never go because 'its dirty and hot and they're so poor and dirty'
Dont worry though, daddy has a Porsche and your 'connected'...
ahem.. thats my rant for the evening.. back to the midnight oil..
c