I’ve already said it a thousand times, a photo shoot has absolutely nothing to do with real life. The DNA of a photo is to highlight an atmosphere, a setting, a posture or an expression in order to accentuate and convey the underlying message. The result is often convincing when professionals are at work, it is much less so when I am involved.

For instance, during a photo session illustrating the film “La La Land”, humming and taking outrageous postures supposed to represent Hollywood glamor seem to be the best thing to do – but it is obviously a massive fail.

We also have to talk about postures. Who says posture, says angle. To get the right angle, comfort has to be sacrificed sometimes. This is the case when I sit with one end of the buttocks on a thin metal fence, with one leg for sole support. This explains why I am leaning as much as the Tower of Pisa in some pictures.

On another note, if you think my breakfasts are made of reading books in kimonos and eating croissants, you’re wrong. In the morning, I drink ten liters of coffee and I eat my Outlook emails.

The grimaces are never far away, as usual.

The cigarette is never far away either, especially when it comes photos illustrating an article about the movie “Gilda”. Smoking frantically in front of the camera which must capture the right moment (that is to say the moment when I gracefully blow the smoke) is a challenge, even for the smoker that I am.

Well, the whole photo shoot was epic: I wanted to get pictures of two outfits in front of the Opéra Comique in Paris: a completely transparent tulle dress which required an almost permanent adjustment of the straps to hide the nipples and a long black dress for “Gilda”.

I was planning to change clothes in the street, and the choice of time – 11 p.m. – had something to do with it.

But life got in the way, as always, and nothing went as planned, as always. We arrived Place de l’Opéra Comique, already occupied by two drunken homeless people who were discussing the world in a very lively way. Why not.

I played with my tulle dress and I constantly adjusted my straps when the time came to change.

It quickly became clear that it was not going to happen in the street. The only place still open was a Mexican bar that welcomed me, my kilometers of tulle and Cedric my photographer in a very warm way. We ordered the best margarita of my life. I changed and we went back to the Place de l’Opéra Comique but the margarita started to kick in.

Let’s be honest, it’s a tipsy “Gilda” who appears in the pictures. Well, why not.

December 5, 2022