When they dim the light, let's begin.

I can honestly say that I am so relieved that the new year has begun. 2010 was the year that nearly finished me off in so many ways, but also one which towards the end, grew with new ventures, new friends and new hope towards the end. It was a year which took me a step closer to my dreams, but also plunged me into an emotional nightmare where abrupt endings melded with lingering chaos and apathy, followed by a resolve to plunge myself deeper into my work than ever before, and then to just... stop. A proper crash and burn.

January.

Film negatives on the x-ray board. Nerdcore.

2010 started as it meant to go on; painfully. Having managed to expertly avoid slipping over in the treacherous ice and snow which a London winter brings, I destroyed my ankle on a puddle of water in the studio that I worked in. I couldn't put any weight on it for two weeks and at the time, lived in an attic room, three flights of stairs away from ground level. And then it was limping around on crutches for a while after that. I discovered that I am hopelessly uncoordinated, and took to bunny-hopping around the streets of London with one crutch in hand to help with my pitiful balance. It was a complete disaster, but one which if nothing else, gave me time to think about my options for moving forward with my photography. And so I decided that I was going to hand in my notice, find some part time work somewhere, and start pushing my freelance work forward again. It was the impetus that I needed, but one which has left me still unable to walk in heels for longer than about 20 minutes without wanting to cry. Not that I was ever that good at walking in them in the first place...

February.

Poundland kite. £1. Sort of flied. Ish.

February was the month where it really did all start to disintegrate. It's difficult to explain without explaining everything, so I won't go into any sort of detail. But it seemed to switch my mind into a very robotic fight or flight mode; and I thought that I was choosing fight. But what I was actually doing was burying everything and just throwing myself into my work.

March.

 

Jane Hallam.

I was still debating what to do with regards to my job in the studio, when on a whim after a bad day, I decided on the spot that I was going to hand in my resignation, and made the appropriate phonecall before I could change my mind. It was stupid as I had no financial back-up and no job to run off to, but with a months notice, I had time to get everything sorted. And somehow I did. I found a part time job working with a charity agency where the hours were as flexible as I wanted, and I was convincing myself that everything was ok.

I was trying to fill every second of my life; if I wasn't at work, I was shooting, if I wasn't shooting, I was editing, if I wasn't editing, I was working. It was endless. But I was a bundle of nervous energy, and was trying to force that into something creative rather than destructive. The dress above is actually just a curtain that I knotted around my wonderful friend Janey. It's basically two pieces of fabric held together with knots and bulldog clips. But it worked...

March was also the month where I met Geoff for the first time. It was a meeting of pure luck on many levels, because although neither of us knew it at the time, that chance day together was going to massively change the direction of both our lives forever.

April.

Barley Massey for Oh Comely.

April was when everything shifted again. I had managed to find myself doing some freelance work with a new magazine called "Oh Comely"; the content didn't really inspire me all that much, but it was a welcome distraction, and a promising confidence booster as I felt as if I was starting from scratch again with my contacts. 

The biggest impact though came from an email informing me that my relationship was over. It was horrible. The same evening, he arrived, took all of his possessions and walked away. I understand why. I even tried to rationalise it to the three amazing girlfriends who turned up with cake and wine as soon as they heard. But it didn't make it fair, as the reasons for why everything crumbled were out of my control. But it was this act which made me realise in a very real sense just what a state I was in, and all the work in the world wasn't going to distract me from the nightmares that I was having when I could actually get to sleep, or the feelings of panic which I felt whenever having to pass through central London. It provoked me to do something which I should have done three months earlier,  and although it wasn't quite a line drawn under anything, it was certainly a much needed full stop. I could pause and cry. Up until that point, I had been keeping everything together, but only so far as grains of salt being held together by bubbles. Slowly they were all popping, and the salt was beginning to spill. In a way, I needed something to unbalance me so drastically, because it made me square up to the emotional wall that I was pressed against, and realise that I couldn't just ignore everything anymore. I needed to deal with what I was trying not to feel.

May.

Carley and her new husband.

I of course came to this conclusion at a time when I couldn't really let myself stop though; May was a busy month with more work for Oh Comely, a wedding day to cover for one of my old college friends and a whole host of other bits and pieces to shoot. It was also the time when I had my second meeting with Geoff, one which almost didn't, and probably shouldn't have happened as we missed each other, batteries dying and so on. Yet close to 11pm, he picked me up from a friend's house in his giant blue van, and somehow, over the course of the night, I disclosed everything that was in my head to him, this man who I barely knew yet felt like I'd known all my life. It was disconcerting and amazing at the same time; any sane notion went out of the window, and a week later, he had drove back to London from Northampton on a trip via Wales (!) to pick me up to accompany him, for me to get a train back from Northampton later that day when he drove back to work, only to then decide to come and drive to London again to pick me up, and take me back to Northampton that same night so that we could spend the weekend together. All of this amidst a rain drenched proposal in the middle of a street in Wales with a cat shaped ring which we'd both spotted minutes before; it was perfect (although reconsidered and somewhat swept under the carpet once sense had set in months later).

June.

Chantal Carr / Bettie Wishes.

Fully loved up, photographic adventures led myself and my "assistant" to the beautiful beaches of Broadstairs in Kent where we were shooting a selection of pin-up images for our friend Chantal Carr. Making the most of the sunshine, I managed to turn from invisible, to milk bottle to lobster despite my factor 50! And then finally, I turned into a three year old once the shoot was wrapped, jumping into the water with my dress billowing against the waves. Soggy and contented, we then sat on the beachfront with the sun dipping, eating chips with cheese, a perfect end to a wonderful working day.

July.

Suzanne Latham

July and August saw me running back and forth between Northampton and London. Truth be told, I was mostly coming back to the Smoke for photoshoots and the odd skip around Camden and East London. But it was very much a time for planning; sorting out tax stuff, setting up work for the weeks and months ahead, and generally just trying to sit still for a second and get my head together. I think emotionally, I was still on pretty shakey ground, and found myself wanting to come back to London less and less. I had a whole host of fashion TV shows at my fingertips, a rapid boil kettle, and a never ending supply of tea, not to mention my own personal viking whisking me around in some sort of strange, domestic bliss. My laptop was turned on to work, but my brain was quickly melting into a puddle of goop. It was all complete and utter avoidance, and I was filled with sadness upon hitting the motorway back to the city. I didn't feel at home in Northampton, but I'd created my own little world within the confines of his house, and for the time being, I was more than happy to stay within that.

August.

Big Bum Jumble.

Luckily August pulled me out of the bubble. It dragged me out of my pyjamas kicking and screaming, shoved my camera firmly back in my hand and scribbled red lipstick and eye liner back over my face. Even if I didn't feel like me, I at least looked a little more like me; less like a 1980s housewife, and more my usual bad hair in ballet pumps.

I had received an email out of the blue asking me to contribute some work towards a small exhibition in a space just off Brick Lane, so haphazardly threw something together in a blind panic. I literally got it framed hours before it needed to be hung. That was enough to focus my attentions back onto my work though, and just like that, the Photogeek had returned.

First up was Big Bum Jumble, an amazing jumblesale of which somehow, I was coerced into walking in their fashion show. As the photographer, luckily there was no photographic evidence of my shame as I shudder to think what an idiot I must have looked. But it was a boost to be asked, and the photos which I shot on the day were sold to Diva magazine, in a strange but lovely twist. I really felt like I was getting back on track when I saw the two-page spread.

I was also lucky enough to get involved with what became affectionately referred to as 'Mo Crack - an event called "More Crackers Please" which was a fundraiser for Ladyfest, and involved shooting karaoke stills all day as people sung along to Le Tigre's Keep On Livin'. Again, somehow I was talked into performing and there exists a video of me singing and *ahem* dancing (read: flailing arms and desperately hoping that my dress doesn't slip down any further). I was going to link to it, but after finding it on YouTube, I managed to get 20 seconds in before deciding that some things are just better left to the imagination. And then bashed on the head repeatedly until forgotten. But it has to be said that the people who organised it were awesome, as were the people who took part.

September.

The Second Floor Studio Promo.

The end of August brought with it an interesting, well timed, once in a lifetime chance. It was a risk on so many levels, but somehow, me and Geoff ended up with The Second Floor Studio. This was a real chance for Geoff to own his own business, and for me to work harder and really push forward with Fashion Loves Photos. It was insane; but the timing was key. And brevity was very much our watchword. Geoff had already quit his job and just finished his notice to move to London to be with me, we were looking for somewhere to live together and the studio had an attached flat, and his house had just sold back in Northampton, which gave us the initial capital to fund it. We ignored the fact that we'd only been together for months, as it just felt as if everything had come together so we did some research, put together a plan, and took the plunge. Is it easy? No. Is it stress filled? Yes. Is it working? Almost. I think by the Summer, this might have been the best decision that either of us have ever made...

October.

Mister Joe Black.

October started with me ignoring my impending birthday, running off to photograph Blood Red Shoes for The Fly, and being whisked off to a Mac Pro event (the make-up, not the apple) with the lovely Al Pillay. Although the highlight was seeing my beautiful Binky from Pearls and Swine, and working on a shoot for her with the delightful Mister Joe Black. This shoot was exactly what I needed; something which allowed me to suspend belief with traditional fashion or portraiture, and to just become lost in a world of glittering antlers, sequined masks and teacup fascinators with hands creeping out of them. I was covered in glitter for days after, and loved it!

November.

 Vintage Vixens.

November saw the weather take a drastic turn outside, but the studio was constantly sizzling with a stream of beautiful ladies waltzing in out. Kat Kolinski showed off her wardrobe of handmade, vintage reproductions, which ranged from her stunning coat, to two piece suits and dresses, whilst Chantal Carr got into the Christmas spirit by shooting her cards with us, proving that presents aren't the only thing that you want to find in stockings this time of year.

December.

Jasmine Alexander.

Towards the end of November, I was lucky enough to be commissioned by Diva to shoot a really interesting woman, jewellery designer Jasmine Alexander. As someone who is cited to be the Vivienne Westwood of the jewellery world, I knew that this was going to be a project which I could really afford to be creative with. The shoot was interesting, as the final outcome was nothing at all like what we had initially discussed. The original idea was to shoot something quite regal, which showcased her work and also involve her beautiful dog to inject a feel of the real persona. However, 200 photos later, I decided to finish with some darker headshots, and they resulted in a beautiful, intimate gritty portrait of a woman who I honestly think will be all over the fashion press this year.

I also seemed to find my way by accident into The Sun newspaper courtesy of Lauren Ding at The Pocket Rocket which was a massive shock, especially as the text with the image was a controversial guest post which I'd wrote in anger at a response to "straight-size" models being used for "plus-sized" advertising campaigns. Fun and games indeed.

Looking back, it's been a really strange year. The worst year of my life in many respects, but with a promise that 2011 will fare better. Already I've got a series of interesting shoots booked in for January, which range from burlesque superstars, Black Swan inspired neo-goth and pin-up, all mixed in with a series of b-movie fun and nose-cone styling. It's a lot to take on, but for the first time in months, I'm slowly finding my inspiration again, and it makes me feel so excited. I still need to find myself of course; it's silly to assume that things change just because a few seconds tick over, and the last digit of the year moves up by one. Yet despite that, there is something reassuring about it all being over. It's a chance to take stock, look ahead, and move forward. All of which I fully intend to do.

Although it comes a bit late, I don't think I would have got through this year without some of you reading this. Even if you didn't know it, friendships, distractions and inspiration have all been key, and I feel very lucky to be starting this year surrounded by good people. 

Happy new year everyone! x x

(And here's a few more photos that I've really loved this year...)

Big Ben, Christmas Eve.

Casper.

Dasies.

The lovely Carl Morris.

The Boyfriend.

The Boss.

The Minx, Natalie Booth.

The amazing Al Pillay.

The Rock (Hero) Band.

Jane Hallam.

AKA Brutal Red.

It's a nice day to start again.

I have such a massive love / hate / love relationship with weddings, even when attending just as a guest. I love dressing up, but always stress massivly over what to wear. Goodness knows what I would do if by some miracle I found myself having to be a bride; I think my brain would explode from sartorial fear and angst, and perhaps from a corset several sizes too small.

I do love the emotional journey that you share with the couple on the day, but hate the hangover that comes with the free bar the next morning. And why is it that you ladder your stockings the second you step out of the car? Always, always, always, without fail. The flowers always seem to be aimed at you, just after a break up, the best man will hit on you just after you've got back together, and so it goes on. Weddings are stress filled endurances which one must spend most of the summer training for. That's what the hen nights are for, yes? For the training...

Photographing a wedding however is something else. Regardless of whether it's a friend or stranger, I will spend most of the day silently hoping that I don't throw up over my shoes with nerves. I won't eat the day before just because of this, it's that bad. It's even worse when you're shooting for someone who you care about as it's not like a shoot in the studio; you can't just rebook the models and lights and start all over again. Having spent a good few years as a lab-monkey processing films, I've seen too many fogged, under and over exposed negatives come back as the remains of someone's "professional" memories for their special day, and have felt so much second hand fear for them having to plead their case to their clients. But I feel even worse for the clients who are dependent on just the disposable cameras / digital point and shoots belonging their friends.

Luckily I've managed to avoid this so far, and with each wedding I shoot, I always swear that it's going to be my last. And then, I see the reactions of the couple when they get the photos back, and my heart melts. Dam you sentimentality. Dam you. I think partly it's nice being involved in the process of the couple's special day; I've always known that the closest I'll get to being married is being the six year old child running around with a length of curtain thrown over my head, and that's fine with me as I've never really seen myself as the sort of girl who ever would. But because of this, it's nice to help compile the memories of those less vow-shy, and no matter how much I insist the weeks of post-wedding editing, and lead up nerves are... I'll always do it again when asked, no matter if I've said that the previous one was the last.

Uniform Of Youth

Undoubtedly one of the biggest perks of taking photos of people is that you get to meet so many different personalities. Whether it's in a club, at a wedding or in a studio for a magazine, there are just so many faces to talk to and hear stories from. There are the clients. Then there are the make-up artists, the stylists, the lighting technicians, the runners, the ushers, the family members, that long lost cousin twice removed who forgot the floral buttonholes in the taxi... Everywhere you look, there's an interesting angle, a possible photo, and a fascinating story to hear.

Of course, many of these people wash past you during the course of a day with little interaction. If you stopped and talked at length to everyone you came across, you wouldn't end up taking that many photos (something which even years later, I still often have to remind myself of during shoots.) But there are some people who for whatever reason stay in your head. It's not necessarily about how good the photo looks, but what was left behind after the image was snapped. Some people just leave an impact on you, and sometimes, this impact turns into something even better; a friendship.

I've always been quite lucky that I have an amazing circle of close friends. Even when a few months pass without seeing them, there is that magical ability where you can sit down over a cup of tea, and it's as if you had seen them just yesterday. Others drift in and out, and even if there isn't such a closeness, there is always that warming feeling of seeing a familiar face. I think in essence that is part of the job; you just get to know people. And as you might have gathered, despite my hermit-editing-hobo state at the moment whilst we get The Second Floor Studio to take care of itself, I do love being around and meeting new people. So in the spirit of that, here are a few beautiful faces, who I am always more than happy to see.

Geoff Carr stumbled into my life in the most unlikely of ways. With our eyes meeting across the less than romantic plains of Wood Green, he was a Northampton based studio technician on his way to test  the lights in a small studio that I worked from in North London. Although we didn't meet again for months, it was one of those moments where something just changed, and somehow several hundred miles back and forth later, we're now both in London, pushing our own studio further, and producing better work every day. Although the reality is that we've known each other for a year, have been dating for just six months, and living together and running a business together for three... somehow we seem to have put an entire lifetime into such a short space. The way I see it is that we've not killed each other yet. So we've passed the first test... That and he makes me more happy than I ever thought possible.

 

My beautiful Bunny Munsta! Partner in crime, dyer of hair, killer of zombies and introducer of Nandos to the vegetarian. My best friend and accomplice in wasting time at The Prince Charles Cinema. Destroyer of Krispy Kremes. And person who I miss so much right now since he moved to Barcelona for a few months. I'll be waiting on the tarmac as soon as he flies back armed with some beef jerky and many, many shiny pound coins to go and play arcade games with him. London hasn't been quite so bright since him and his cymk personality vacated in search of cats and sunshine...

Carl Morris. Writer. Actor. Teacher. Tea lover. I can't quite put into words how much I adore this man, and love that an afternoon of hot chocolate and book buying can lead to adventures in Wonderland, and 5am cups of tea in Turkish cafes. And that was just on our second meeting. His answerphone messages left in either the voice of Stitch or with various regional accents are as endearing as they are silly, and it is this exact, inane silliness which makes Mr. Morris so much fun to be around, whether it's in front of the camera, or shopping for real coffee and books in Soho.

I hardly even know where to begin with this beautiful girl. Janey Hallam was a friend who I met through Bunny, which began a long saga of multiple cats, cider and a discovery of how to make sushi. She has let me try out so many ideas with her, and is as wonderful a model, as she is a friend. Currently residing in the USA, I am counting down the seconds until she's back in London in January. The Hackney House of shame has so many memories, many in photographic form which may at some point need to be destroyed... :-)

Binky + Diana = Cupcake and cleavage overload. Divine, adorable, evil and amazing, this glitter queen has the burlesque world at her hardworking feet, creating the most amazing pieces over in the world of Pearls and Swine. I have been lucky enough to work on several photoshoots with both her and her products, and every single one of them has been amazing. There are just some people who creatively, you spark with and Binky is most certainly one of them, if not THE one for me. However I am lucky that she isn't just a creative partner, she's also become like a big sister, always at the ready to lead my astray. And for that, she will always have my heart. And my last cupcake.

It was fortune which led me to meet these two beautiful ladies. Both friends of friends, Natalie Booth came along first, having bumped into her at a magazine launch party. With her bright red hair and model height, my initial reaction was one of wow. Especially as she was wearing a different coloured version of a dress which I'd recently purchased, and was making it look literally a billion times better. That dress has languished in the back of my wardrobe ever since, and is unlikely to ever see the light of day until I can either walk in 15" heels or find a corset that can suck me in by about 60 inches! However it was worth the loss, as I gained a wonderful friend instead who luckily, has become less shy of the camera since we've met. Which is awesome for me, as she is a natural pin-up, and a super-cutie!

Kat Kollinski was again met through a friend, and it was upon seeing her photo on Facebook that I just knew that I had to photograph her. What I hadn't quite prepared myself for was the fact that as well as looking like Poland's answer to Dita, she also handmade all of her incredible 1940s style clothes, from the tailored dressed and matching separates, right down to the winter coat which is quite literally to die for. She has such a natural elegance, and looks as if she's stepped out from a vintage postcard, with her cutesy smile and set-curly hair. The camera adores her, but not as much as I do!

Next, come the faces who I don't get to see nearly enough and often miss... Mr. Phillip Spence, creator of Ninja Bunny, my darling cute-faced Missy, Lauren Ding of Pocket Rocket Fashion, and that boy's face who I'm sure I contemplate offers of tea and friendship with far too frequently. Not that there's any bad feeling. It's just. Well. You know. Sometimes you miss people even when you shouldn't.

I think that it's just difficult to walk away when someone made such a huge impact on your life. A year isn't a long time, but it's long enough to make a difference, and although a photograph might be thrown away, those memories still stay in your head. Even if you did try to erase them with several bottles of cheap wine at the time. And it might be easier to cling onto the bad memories but, it's more fun to remember the good ones. It's just that being that way inclined ensures that you dream of tea in Soho, movies at the PCC, and forget how badly you were hurt. It's difficult to navigate.

I think as well that when working with different people, you can learn so much as well. I think it'd be fair to say that assisting with photographers such as Medwell, ensured that I learnt more about lighting and posing than what I ever had done from books or classes. It's a mixture of seeing how things work first hand, but also feeling inspired by someone elses expertise.

Medwell for me was some sort of deviant teacher. Dismantling wrestling rings at 5am whilst drunk after a crazy shoot, falling asleep on buses with hundreds of pounds worth of equipment with us, and baking scones in his kitchen when too broke to buy real food. I have a crazy adoration for him, but also a very high level of respect for his craft. Which he'd probably respond to by trying to draw on my arm in marker pen, but this is partly why I wish I saw him more now.

People to me are important. I'm lucky that as a photographer, I get to document the people who waltz in and out of my life at will. But sometimes I wish that I was better at being a proper friend and keeping in touch. Photos are good, but they're nowhere close to a cup of tea and a hug.