The reason I was scurrying about taking photos of these metamorphosing she-daemons in the toilets of the English Faculty one morning was that a) someone had decided this was the most sensible place to prepare for the day's shoot - a decision which rather unnerved some very serious female academics and renegade English students who were breaking all the unwritten codes of the subject by being anywhere, let alone a library, absurdly early in the morning - and b) Nina had basically blagged this gig for me. Which meant that we were both trying very hard to give everyone else the impression that this wasn't the first time I had ever tried to use a proper camera without a tutor/model beside me (see last post) and I was trying to get some very necessary practice done before the actual shoot began.
Me: (absent mindedly, perhaps thinking there was some kind of connection between arranging one's hair and temporary deafness) Nina I think I've worked out how to make it darker when there's too much light. Or do I mean the other way round?
Nina: (to the others, saving the situation with instant improvisational skills) She's so excited, she only got this camera yesterday. She broke her last one, but it was definitely just as complicated and serious as the one she has now...only it was different model. (Phew. Look of appreciative understanding exchanged)
In retrospect I'm sure they couldn't have cared less. And anyway applying mascara is a very absorbing activity...
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