BOURGEOIS PIG

Today I talked to Randee.

It is 10am. I am driving home after an early meeting in Silver Lake and I badly need a coffee. I decide to park my car in Franklin Village, where a short street portion with bars and restaurants always looks animated. The sun has been hiding for four days now and the streets are still dark this morning. When I enter the Bourgeois Pig, one of the oldest coffeehouse in Los Angeles, it feels even darker. A bit like a warm disco cocoon. A few random red and blue lamps feebly shine on the washed-out walls. A disco ball slowly spins on Otis Redding songs. People are slumped on couches and chairs, reading on their laptops screens. At the bar, a man is telling jokes and the woman sitting next to him laughs at them. I might have stepped into another dimension. It is a late evening at the Bourgeois Pig.

Then, I see Randee. She is a petite energetic brunette. She is smiling, joking around with the customers, and bouncing from one spot to the other behind the bar while making coffees. She wears a x-large tank top held together with a safety pin and a loose "Nasty boys" t-shirt. A woman asks her how she makes her t-shirts look so darn cool. Randee's blue eyes shine. "I cut all my stuff. It's cool to cut straps in the back or tie it behind your neck. You can do so many things. I love it," she says. "I find my stuff at the Goodwill. And it's even better to have an oversize t-shirt and make it fit. You can do it, believe me!" Someone throws the idea that Randee should create a cutting t-shirt workshop and she likes it. Randee has a lotus flower tattooed on her arm with the word "Riot" written underneath. "That's my nickname. When I was living in New York, I was in the alternative scene and people called me Randee Riot," she says.

I go outside to take pictures but the light is pretty low. I meet David who is sitting there, smoking. We talk about photography and he shows me the pictures he took at the Huntington botanical garden. He loves it so much that he goes there at least once a month with his girlfriend. We are watching the pictures of beautiful cactuses, exotic flowers and trees on his computer, when his friend Christophe arrives. Christophe is a French actor and played a part in David's short film. He loves his life in L.A. He says that, even though he is not ambitious by nature, he has challenged himself to do something great here and is working on achieving it. I ask him if his accent can be an asset sometimes. "Not really. L.A. is the worst city to improve your English because no one speaks it well here. I used to hang out with Japanese friends. We could hardly understand each other," he says, and  laughs. Randee comes outside too so I can take a picture of her. She doesn't know how to pose, so David takes her in his arms and lifts her high.

Randee and I are back inside. I meet Andrew, the manager of the place, who stands behind the bar. He shows us his phone. "Look at that picture. I went for a hike in a creepy forest. We didn't see a single animal, not even a squirrel. It was like the Twilight Zone forest," he says. "That's the Yeti." I look closely at the photo: a man is sitting next to large trees trunks. Behind him, a big brown furry spot looks exactly like the Yeti. That is bizarre, but not so much. After all, I knew I had stepped in a parallel dimension when I entered the Bourgeois Pig today.  So why should I be surprised to see the Yeti on the manager's phone? 

ASTRID

Today I talked to Astrid.

It kind of sounds funny to me even to write about it because I never thought I would do it one day, but I have decided to do headshots. Living in Los Angeles has finally got me. Sometimes, I see the entertainment industry like an old lady who doesn't let herself be impressed by new comers. There are rules to follow, and one of them is to carry your headshots around. Even if you are not an actor. The photo shoot is just part of the L.A. life. Like gondola riding in Venice, bullfighting in Seville, or wine tasting in Bordeaux. You just need to do it once, that's all.

I met Astrid through common friends. She is a dynamic brunette who speaks fast both in English and French. She is a photographer, graphic designer and musician. When she enters my apartment, carrying two large photo bags, reflectors, and background material, she is all business. My make-up is not finished yet but she is fine with that. In front of the bathroom mirror, I put some face powder, a light sparkly color on my eyelids, and arrange my hair. Astrid sits on the toilet seat and watches me in silence. She is getting ready for the session too. "Each shoot is unique," she says. "I adapt to the person and her personal vibe. I never know where it's gonna go, but when we get there it's like a dance." The make-up is done. "You look like a doll," she says, and she smiles warmly. Then I show her the clothes I have prepared and spread on my bed. We decide to start the shoot with the cool colors and end with the warm ones.

Astrid loves still images. With her company, Purple Red, she has been creating movie posters since she moved to Los Angeles from Paris, eight years ago. Recently, she started doing more and more photo shoots because it allows her to interact with people. She experiences unique and intimate moments with them. "I'm tired of working alone in front of my computer. I crave for more sharing right now," she says. Since Astrid prefers to work with natural light, we get out on the balcony. "We'll start with something simple, so you can make yourself comfortable," she says. She puts a newspaper on a tiny table and a cup of coffee next to it. It is 10am and the sunlight is extremely bright. So she grabs four clips and a piece of white cloth, and creates a roller blind with all that. The balcony becomes cozy. I sit down and start asking her questions (in a lame attempt to cover the stress), when I realize that the shoot has already started. Astrid asks me to remain silent because: "if I don't, the pictures will come out bad," she says. 

After maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, we decide to change the outfit and find a new location. I change my tank top to a blue vintage shirt, and we get out of the apartment. In an alley behind the garage, we find a dirty gray wall that stands next to a few old cars parked behind a gate. Astrid continues shooting. She stands deeply rooted on her feet and moves in rhythm to an inaudible music. I giggle awkwardly thinking to myself that I would rather be the one taking the pictures and that modeling is definitely a hard job...

Four outfits and three hours later, I am standing at the front door of an orange Spanish-style house. Astrid has removed the doormat and the ad hanging at the door. My feet hurt from  standing in high heels, and I am thirsty and hot. Astrid watches me patiently. She smiles. "Do what you feel to do," she says. So I throw my shoes away and start to play hide and seek in the surroundings. "Here we go," she whispers. And I see her smile peak from behind the camera. The dance has finally begun. "Now, we're done," she says."I've got some really good ones." Thanks to Astrid, I did it. I had a memorable photo shoot experience in the streets of L.A.. But it is time to reverse the roles and it feels good to be behind the camera again.