It's all about who you know.
A few nights ago, my roomates and I went out to a club called Maya. Have you heard of the artist Lady Gaga? She's a singer and this was her after-party. We hopped on the tube and managed to find our way there only to see a huge line of well-dressed people snaking down the street. After Jess failed to convince one of the bouncers we should be in the members only line, we waited with all the others.
"Are you American??" asked the girl in front of us.
Like I've said before, everywhere we go this is the first step to meeting anyone. Turns out this girl was American too and shared the knowledge that a 20 pound cover charge was in store for us if we ever got to the door.
Poor college kids that we are, Katherine Jess and I decided we'd book it and try to find a different spot to have a drink before heading home. Just then, we see two men cross the street and stand 10 feet down from us looking towards the entrance of the club with huge cameras hung around their necks.
We approached them to ask if they were here to see Lady Gaga. I've always pictured the pappazzi to be ill-mannered and very cut-throat, but these guys were friendly and willing to field all our questions.
Turns out they had already been there the previous night and one guy had already taken a close-up he was very happy with, which he showed me on the camera. I asked how his career worked and whether he works for a certain publication. Turns out they each have a manager and the manager sends out whatever photos are taken to thousands of publications, some even worldwide.
He said that he's lucky if he gets even one or two that sell. I asked what his favorite picture that he ever took was.
"A few years ago I snapped a picture of Meg Ryan arm and arm with Russel Crow. The next day Dennis Quaid filed for divorce," he said. "I broke that story."
He got $15,000 for the picture at the time, but he still regretted that he could have got more.
I could relate a lot to what he was saying from a journalist perspective. Most of the people he photographed were cooperative just because, essentially, he is working to promote them. We both agreed that any publicity is good publicity.
Also, the question came up: Do celebrities make the paper, or does the paper make celebrities? One guy was saying that sometimes a nobody can become a somebody just if they dress differently enough to get featured in a magazine and then they become famous. (An example of how the paper can make celebrities.)
He said he and his buddy (also there to take pictures) were good friends even though they are each other's competition.
"It's all smiles, until it comes time to take the picture and the elbows get out," he said.
So that was the first interesting character I spoke with. The second was on the ride home to south ken on the night bus.
* * *
This scruffy looking guy gets on at one stop with a dirty looking trunk with stickers of scorpions on the sides. Really? A box of scorpions on the bus at night?
So, Katherine taps him on the shoulder and asks what's in the trunk.
He looks up, kind of annoyed and says,
"Makeup."
"No seriously, what's in the trunk?"
"Makeup."
"Okay..."
We sat back and just kind of looked at each other before he reached into his pocket and handed her his card.
"This is what I do."
Turns out this guy does full body paint for the people disguised as statues you see in parks around here. After looking at the card and seeing the black under his fingernails, the makeup in the trunk seemed to make sense.
"I've been doing it for 25 years, and I couldn't imagine doing anything else, I love it," he said.
All his networking around London has established him some connections. Turns out he's done some business with one of the guys at the club we were originally trying to get into.
Next time instead of waiting in line down the block, we could email him ahead of time to be put on the guest list and get in to Maya for free.
I guess it's all about who you know.
