My name is Frazer Byrne and I’m a talent manager based in Dublin. I wanted to get in touch because I heard you’d been shadowing Dave Corrigan and was impressed with your website. I’m currently looking for a photographer who could come capture some raw, behind-the-scenes style pictures of one of my clients for a new project we are working on. I don’t want to reveal too much over this initial email but could you give me a call if you’re interested? We’d need you for four nights here in Dublin at the start of next month, and would cover your travel and hotel expenses as well as offer a day rate.
I hope to hear from you soon.
Allthe best,
Frazer
Byrne + O’Neill
I was super intrigued by Frazer’s email and a feeling that’s starting to become more familiar washed over me. . . I think it’s pride. But when I took a quick look through my calendar, Violet had already pencilled in something called EXTREME BOOTCAMP for the start of next month. And as she’d put it in our shared calendar, muggins here must be going too. It sounds awful. I sighed at the missed opportunity with Frazer, made a mental note to reply to him properly later and got back to it.
Today started at a time that shouldn’t legally be called the morning. I don’t even think Anna Wintour was up and playing tennis when my alarm went off. It won’t finish until Violet says so, which I imagine will be the same time tomorrow ‘morning’ as she rampages her way through the after parties on the hunt for her perfect guy. At least she made some energy balls yesterday (see recipe on today’s blog) and we’ve all been mainlining those. They’re actually quite nice, even though they look like something Prince Albert the pooch might produce.
I capture the all-important getting ready scenes for the big night, not really having to think as I work. I’ve taken these pictures, in various guises, so many times over my years of working with Violet that it’s second nature to me. I know what works, I know what angles Violet likes best, I already know which image will be going on Instagram before I’ve even taken it. I work my ass off for Violet, I’m here and committed every damn day, but the truth is, it’s no longer a challenge. It’s taken the past few months to make me realise that I amcoasting with Violet. But having the chance to work on other shoots, to get my brain going in ways it hasn’t for so long, and to feel energised about photography, has made me determined to keep pushing myself. I should be moving forward. The easy way isn’t always the best way, right?
Emmy has slipped into a stunning, sea green dress. It shimmers as she moves and hits just above the floor. Her hair is pillar box red today and falls in s-shaped waves past her shoulders, hitting her collar bone which has been lightly dusted with gently shimmering powder. She looks incredible.
Meanwhile Violet’s sliding into her own dress, which might best be described as bridal. It’s HUGE. Remember when Rihanna wore a massive yellow gown with the world’s biggest train and someone photoshopped pizza toppings onto it? Violet’s dress is around the same size. She looks good in a hugely unsubtle way. It’s pink and frothy, but given a touch of the badass thanks to an oversized black bow around her teeny waist. Her cropped hair and vampish make-up bring the sass, too. This whole look screams don’t mess with me. If Violet had planned to debut her romance with Chip tonight, she now plans to kill him dead with her beauty. I’ve got to hand it to her, she never misses an opportunity.
I’m in the back of a car sandwiched between a bride from a horror movie and a mermaid. There is little space for me to breathe, let alone prep my camera, and we’re in a massive limo laid on by the sponsors. If I’d needed to hail a black cab for us I’d have ended up strapped to the roof. Both Violet and Emmy are lying out almost flat, like cardboard cut-outs of themselves, to avoid the dreaded dress-creasing before their red carpet moment. I’m scrunched up in the middle, wearing some new cropped trousers and a vest, which I figured would be comfy for all of the running around but also vaguely stylish.
‘I’vejust had the most awful thought,’ says Violet.
Emmy tips her head forward to look at her best friend, which must take some impressive core strength in her position.
Violet fans her face with her hands. ‘What if I don’t win?’
Hmm. It’s not really ‘the most awful thought’ but then Violet is never not thinking about herself.
‘Babes, as if,’ Emmy soothes. ‘You are going to nail this. Did you hear about the goody bags? Apparently the winners get a trip on some amazing new cruise-liner.’
‘A cruise-liner?’ I interject. ‘Isn’t that a bit. . . retro?’
Emmy and Violet shoot me sympathetic looks.
‘Oh hun, cruising is the new glamping. Haven’t you heard? Everyone will be doing it soon,’ says Emmy.
‘I think my auntie went on a cruise. Jane MacDonald was there,’ I say.
Emmy and Violet claps their hands to their chests.
‘OHMYGOD JANE!’ They both coo. ‘She is impeccable.’
Just as I’m about to get into the world’s strangest conversation about cruise ships and Jane MacDonald in the back of a limo with a demon bride and a beautiful sea creature, our driver announces that we’re nearly there. The girls whip out their compacts, checking their make-up.
‘You both look stunning,’ I say honestly. And as we step out of the car and the lights start to flash, even I feel excited about the night ahead.
Their legs swing gracefully to the side. They exit the car like they spent a year at finishing school. (Violet actually did do this.) They stand up, dresses smooth and smileslighting up their faces. Violet and Emmy step onto the red carpet with no trace of the nerves I could feel in the car. Meanwhile I scramble out, hella creased. Violet not only wants pictures of her red carpet moment, but also footage and photos for social, so I’m juggling my camera in one hand and her phone in the other. It’s a balmy London night, the late summer heat almost oppressive.
I rush round to face the girls and snap some shots of them together before the branded limo drives off. Got to get the sponsors in shot so that Violet can earn even more money from the pictures I take, obvs. The girls are greeted by a PR who ticks them off her guestlist then chats into her headpiece, announcing their arrival to her colleagues at the other end of this vast walkway. There are fans standing by the railings which separate the red carpet from the street, holding their phones high and calling for a selfie with their favourite influencers. As soon as they see Violet the din gets twice as loud. She stands in front of the photography pen, inching her body incrementally from left to right to make sure each snapper gets a good shot of her. I post a quick picture and tag in all of Violet’s ‘glam squad’ for the night.
#InfluencerOfTheYearAwards
#WishMeLuck
#LoveMyFans
#Blessed
