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After two months of what seemed like initiation, I was allowed to help out on a shoot. Stephen Meisel, the legendary fashion photographer who shot Madonna’s 1992 book, Sex, was the photographer and Tonne Goodman, Vogue’s fashion director, the editor. I was briefed about how to behave in front of Meisel. I was told not to look him in the eye and in no circumstances to talk to him. He was deemed a bit of a diva with a rep for being “difficult” . Who isn’t difficult, I thought as I headed to Chelsea Piers where the shoot was taking place. Once inside, I caught a glimpse of the great man; long dark hair and biker boots, he was a dead ringer for Johnny Depp’s Captain Jack Sparrow. He looked very, very cool and I was terrified that he would notice me staring and throw a camera in my direction. In reality, all he did was settle in front of a computer and direct his assistants, who were taking the pictures. I observed the action while hanging up couture bikinis that the models literally flung at me. Everything was covered in fake tan and I wondered if the designers minded that their beloved collections came back ruined. I managed to eat my own body weight in canapés from a table that seemed to be replenished every 30 minutes and I left for the day at a very respectable six in the evening.
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