26 July 2006
You're nobody 'til Photoshop loves you
Yes, that is a picture of me but it is a professional retouched picture of me. A professional retouched picture is an actual picture of a person the way a package of uncooked chicken is a delicious meal of crispy golden fried chicken. I mean, sure, it's CHICKEN, but it's not fried chicken.
In the above picture (photo by the brilliant Grrl Genius Susan Maljan, shameless plug) I had both my hair and makeup professionally done (Geniuses Kim Ayers and Chanda Hutton, another plug) and the makeup was thick enough that if you saw it in real life you would have sworn that I had just arrived from an evening of performing kabuki theater. The previous day my hairdresser Bill Belshya of Jonathon Salon in West Hollywood (true Enlightened Male, final shameless plug) had cut and colored my hair so that not even twenty-four hours would elapse between highlighting and photographing. I'm lit with (approximately) a thousand billion gigawatts of imperfection removing light and I'm wearing some kind of vacuum sealed, fat sucking body stocking under that dress, as well as a gravity defying underwire bra.
All that is before the SWAT team of retouchers came in and made me look younger than I would in a pre-natal sonogram.
It may take a village to raise a child but apparently it takes a small Latin American country to take a photo of me.
Those of you who saw the Britney Spears Harper's Bazaar cover may well have thought, "Geez, I know pregnant women are supposed to glow and all that, but she looks like she's been dipped in Nu Vinyl or something." With that thought in mind, here's a Grrl Genius-recommended demonstration: a representation of a typical magazine cover which, with a few well-placed clicks, gives up the secrets of What's Real and What's Been Fixed.
I learned two things from this:
Oh, and save the Armor All for the car.Posted at 2:42 PM to Dyssynergy