It would be a a safe bet to say I dove in head first. Into shark infested territory... blindly. I knew nothing about the fashion world. I knew nothing about the business. I had no idea how to create call sheets. I couldn't tell you the difference between a 7b & 8 pro air. Shooting tethered- what's that? I didn't know shit about shit. All I knew was I could A) stay in my comfy apartment, with my comfy part time job in sales, finish my degree and play in the San Francisco which is where I called home for the past 5 years. OR B) Take a chance- and move my whole life in 10 days, 485 miles away, where I knew one person, and work my ass off.
I had no idea what working under a contract would entail. Yes. I got to work exclusively with Australian Vogue, Nylon, I assisted in shoots with Rolling Stone, GQ, and Esquire. I was second shooter for a cover shoot. It was all fun. It was all new. It was glamorous. I was behind the camera, or on set. I didn't know that my 210 page contract entailed working 75 hours a week on 1 campaign. I had no idea it took 3 months to work a full campaign for a certain Italian couture brand. I had no idea sometimes it would require me to be bumped up to project manager.. in charge of 120 people in 4 different countries. I had no idea how to actually delegate. I didn't know I'd be living in a life full of color coded spreadsheets and calendars. I literally at one point had to make a color code for "FUN" for when I had a break (and of course, it was highlighted in pink. During the months of working the campaign I saw less and less of pink...) I didn't know that I couldn't turn my phone off. I would have emails sent to me all points of the day and night. It doesn't matter if it's 2 am over here, because in Italy or Spain it was the end of their work day and I was getting emails after emails on daily reports. Text messages from 5am-1am asking for approval on equipment check outs, call sheets, ad copy updates. I didn't know how consistently inconsistent this life would be. I didn't know how inconsistent work would be in the photo world. I could work 10 hours on week, and 90 hours the next. It wouldn't matter- I still would receive x amount at the end of the month.
I thought I'd be comfortable. When I was basically just getting by. The long hours and my stress level versus the number on my paycheck did not add up. I would relish when I could have possibly 3-5 hours of sleep. My search history was filled with makeup review sites looking for the best under-eye cream and foundation for dark circles because it was inevitable. They were there. And they were staying. I wanted to make it look like I had my shit together when honestly I'd find myself sitting in my car on 60 thinking, "I really don't know what the HELL I'm doing. How the hell am I even pulling this shit off?". I literally learned to talk, walk, and twirl all at once. With no supervision. School did not prepare me for this. And it didn't prepare me for the pace. EVERYTHING was so fast. I found myself asking every question possible because I may not be able to speak to that person again regarding a shoot. I tried REALLY hard not to ask the same question twice. And I learned above all else don't you dare assume or say, "I thought". Because "I thought" turns into incompetence and incompetence leads you to the door.
Some nights I would come home.. exhausted. Drop my gear off in a pile in the living room. Grab my dog. sit in my bathtub and just cry. Not because I was sad, just because I felt I had been torn in every direction. I would give my all to my boss, to my colleagues, to people over the phone, speaking in my broken italian trying desperately to communicate that the 6 page PDF file was no longer valid because the art director threw out the entire concept. I had no other emotion left in me. SO I just cried.
I estimated while working as a studio manager, within the 1,720 hours of hellish work, stress, communication, concept boards, calendar management, from shoot scheduling to post production, deadlines, sample organization, booking & scheduling & confirming models, department meetings, product preparation, coordinating team members to caterers, to stylists, to makeup artists, conference calls, shooting, editing & print work.... about 3% of it was the glamour. The glamorous part I had only known for the first 3 months assisting before I moved out here. Because my job was to assist on the shoot. I never knew I'd be working behind the scenes. Creating the concept and making sure it came to full fruition. And without any flaws with the finished product.
I needed a second job. As demanding as my main job was, I couldn't live with waiting for a paycheck at the end of the month. I somehow fell into PR. And I loved every second of it. I realized I was great at my job, and was successful at it too. I made an unbelievable amount of contacts. And after 7 months, I was told, "we're going in a different direction." I was basically only told to do ABC and got let go because of XYZ. I've never been let go before. I've never felt so many mixed emotions over a "job". Because I realized this wasn't a career move. It was to pay my bills. And to help me not go crazy on the days where I'd only be working in the studio 3 hours a day. ANd just like that. Gone...
Literally 5 hours later of being let go I ended up in Beverly Hills, working a record label launch party through contacts I had made.
It made me realize even when I have no control of my life.. I have to just sit back and look at it as steps. Just steps towards something bigger. Because everything happens for a reason. I might try my hardest to figure out what the reason is before I'm meant to .. but I just blame that on my tenacious character.
I thought I would move out here, live the life, go to fabulous parties, make amazing friends, have that "art circle" I was used to in San Francisco, take a billion photographs, catch up on my portfolio, possibly work some shows, work hard, and find my purpose, or at least figure out my career path. In the past 8 months I've:
-Gone to some fabulous parties
-Made a few, great friends I will always cherish
-Not found my niche
-Have taken aprox. 30 photographs
-Haven't touched my portfolio
-Have gone to some shows, not worked them
-Have worked extremely hard. Like blood, sweat, tears and more blood type hard
-And I've figured out basically what I DONT want to do with my life.
I've learned I'm better than a contract, and deserve to be on salary. I've learned the real meaning of a disco nap. I've become a red bull fanatic. I've contemplated the thought of narcotics just to give me more hours in the day (jokingly. partially). I've learned that a lot of tears (in the privacy of your own home and or bathroom) goes into a glamorous lifestyle. I've learned that music has the power to truly save someone. I've learned the real meaning of priorities. I've learned the difference between wanting and needing. I've learned why PR girls and girls in the fashion world are so skinny. I've also learned why the majority are so bitchy. I've learned to appreciate every opportunity. And I've learned your destiny never waits for it to be convenient for you. And when it comes crashing on top of you like a wave coming out of no where- you bet your ass you'll be toppled over. But as long as you get up and ride with the next wave you can't appreciate falling down because then you're finally able to stand up.
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