Monday, February 11, 2008

Is a pound a pound?


Is it okay to work for a paper you don't really approve of? It's sort of like that age old question. 'Did good people work on the construction of the Death Star?'. I've had to think about that a bit today.

Also is important is 'what would you do for money?'. I often talk to my friends in the adult industry about how they ended up doing what they do, not in a preachy way just trying to understand the steps you have to take to get there. It seems that it's a gradual process. First you do one little thing because someone pays you, and then you do something else as well for a bit more cash and so on.

I say this because I'm doing a photoshoot in oh about 10 minutes. This is a shoot for a feature about, well women. Women not being very spiffing. I will try and make it light-hearted and things but they do want the details. The little sordid facts of the matter and suddenly perhaps I'm revealing more than I should to a wider public.

Although now that I think about it, it's nothing more than I would say on this blog, and in this instance I will get paid. So while I don't think I'll be doing topless photo shoots for hardcore magazines where people like to look at Fops and Dandies. I am starting to understand the steps one goes on to get there.

And well, perhaps if the shot is tasteful, and important the piece I could undo a button or two.

8 comments:

Gorilla Bananas said...

With any luck, you'll get a bag full of fan mail.

Louche said...

Ooh, I hadn't thought of that.

Clair said...

I bet you had....!

Louche said...

Ding dong

Clair said...

Welcome to Britain's leading forum for archaic saucy language. It's like being in Carry On, Doctor around here, with Louche as Jim Dale.

Louche said...

Then who would you be Clair?

Clair said...

When we used to play 'casting Carry On films' during the Good Old Days at TV Quick, I always ended up as Joan Sims when I wanted to be Anita Harris. These days, put me down as Bernard Breslaw.

We also used to pretend we had our own soap opera based in a community centre which ran dance classes in the evenings. We had a Scouse barman who would wink constantly in a cheeky fashion (he is now a senior bod on a Saturday mag); a lothario dance teacher (I forget who that was) and a louche charmer of an Australian handyman (I remember all too well who that was). Happy days...

Louche said...

That sounds like an excellent way of passing the afternoon.