I am not going to dwell on my early return from Philly or ‘family’ stuff that is going on so I shall simply carry on with other items regardless. Tonight was my first night working for FS Magazine, it’s a charity health and lifestyle magazine produced by the wonderful GMFA who I volunteer for, so as well as being for a good cause I also get more experience with working on different features and with new people.
Tonight I was doing the Vox Pops for ‘holiday/summer’ issue which is coming out in a few weeks. So I arranged to meet the photographer in Clapham at 7.30 as we thought that was the perfect time for the lads to be out. They weren’t. While Kazbar was sort of doing ok, the Brewers was quite quiet, we had come too early. Eventually however the bar started to fill just as my jetlag slapped me around and I started to feel slightly odd. Being professional (I am) I simply carried on regardless in hindsight I don’t think it’s my best work and I am really a bit disappointed in myself.
The other thing that disappointed me was people’s responses. Ask them about a holiday and they seemed to wanna tell you a bit, ask about STI’s or sex which is what we wanted and suddenly they clammed up. Maybe I wasn’t being as chatty and didn’t build up the rapport with them that I should have, but after having dealt with some bloody awkward celebs in the past however long (and some awkward no celebs in my social life) I wasn’t sure it was that. Maybe it’s the picture in a magazine that gets dotted around London bit that bothers peoples as a lot of people were saying ‘ask me questions but I don’t want a photo’.
Don’t get me wrong everyone is entitled to not having to talk about their sex life as much as people have the right to brag about it. I was asked to do a Vox Pop back when I was sweet 19 (I haven’t been what they are looking for since then damn them) and I was more than happy to discuss my sex life, but then I was also a complete tart back then. Now though I still do talk quite openly and in some cases very wrongly about sex with my friends… would I for a magazine? Hell, any publicity is better than none, or so they say. I guess the boys of Clapham just didn’t want to open up to me tonight and with the jet-bags under my eyes who can blame them?
So that was that, we managed to get 12 guys though I didn’t feel that the selection was diverse enough in ages or anything, but the photographer wanted his tea, and who am I to deprive a man of that?