An apple a day

I did the most embarrassing thing yesterday after work. I agreed to pose for photographs with an apple. Just a normal evening activity, of course. My friend Eric works at a graphic design company in Durham called Kompleks Creative Group. They work on a lot of projects for recording artists, usually in the genre of hip-hop and rap. This happened to be a photo that will be used on an online CD jacket for a hip-hop record.
So this whole adventure began when Eric called me asking if I would pose eating an apple. I busted out laughing with humiliation. He said if I didn’t feel comfortable I should come talk to the photographer/owner of the company, Tobias.
After I met with Tobias, who assured me the photos would be tasteful and that they would only show from my nose to shoulders, I felt much more at ease.
I arrived at the shoot at 5:45pm and waited awhile for Tobias to return to the studio with “props.” He presented me with ruby red lipstick, 2 juicy red apples, a plastic drop cloth, and baby oil!!!!! The embarrassment began to drape over me like a…well…a plastic drop cloth. I wanted to run out screaming.
But once again, Tobias made me feel at ease, letting me laugh my way through the photos. The baby oil was mostly for the apple, to make it look shiny. The drop cloth was to cover his studio equipment. He constantly told me I was doing a great job making friends with the apple.
So you’re probably wondering why I was picked for the job. I was wondering the same thing. The answer is my pale skin, my freckles, and my Cuban lips. Haha. I hate my lips. Hubby assured me I have a beautiful mouth and told me he was proud of his mouth model wife.
After the shoot, I got to see some of the photos as Tobias pulled them onto his computer. Some of them were ridiculous, as I assumed they’d be. The faces I made were just plain absurd. Sometimes I looked terrified; sometimes I looked like an over-smiling toothpaste model; sometimes I looked like Snow White. After some retouching and cropping and all that jazz, the photos began to take on the feel of a ‘50s desperate housewife. The really pale skin, bright white background, juicy red apple, and red lips all came together.
But here is the funniest part of the whole situation. The album name is Delightful Bars (a play on candy). The recording artist’s name is Big Pooh. I’m going to be a “model” on an album by someone named after feces. How perfect!