Archive | January, 2014

Bowie-gasm

28 Jan

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I have been sitting here for a few hours now, trying to think of how to start this flog post, and more importantly how to end it.  As dedicated flogstars will know, I could talk about Bowie until the cows come home, but I am without cows so it’d be a bloody long wait.  I still don’t think I’d run out of things to say about David, his greatness and how much I luuuurve him.

So, this post is all pictures, not because I have nothing to say, but because I feel slightly overwhelmed by how much ground I could cover.  We’d be here all night.  And day.  And then all night again.

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I took these today on my camera but the real photos will be even better – these are just a cheeky little sneak peek, just close-ups of makeup but you just wait til you see the fully styled and finished shots.

Today’s team was:
Mega-babe models: Rebecca Goldie and Aaron Bird
Photographer extraordinaire: Paul Wylie
Hair magician: Gillian Cleminson
Wardrobe/styling genius: Kim Wallace
Bowie makeup specialist: Imogen Maxwell (that’s me, kids)
Location: The Buff Low Cafe, Glasgow (who very kindly allowed us to shoot on their premises when our first location fell through at the very last second!)

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she was winking, you just can’t see it

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my dedication to Bowie rivalled only by Aaron’s – shaved eyebrows. My hero.

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Goldie by name, goldie by jacket/lip colour/forehead circle.

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I’m messy and I take up ALL the space and I’m NOT sorry

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I had the best day doing this; normally there are some butterflies that come with rocking up to a shoot not knowing anyone, not knowing how it will turn out, who will show up, what the atmosphere will be, whether my work will be good enough etc etc etc.  But this was my total happy-place in every detail: doing my very favourite makeup amongst calm, focussed, organised, dedicated, professional creatives at work.  Now, to find a way to get paid for this shit! 😉

Thanks to all those who were involved in making this shoot happen; I can’t wait to see the finished shots!  Now just watch this just quickly.

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the week in pictures

26 Jan

And not even the whole week.  This is just Friday and Saturday!  Like I’ve said, I’ve been a busy beaver, flogstars.

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Friday was the early early call time of 8am to do makeup for a short film being made by Barrowland Ballet.

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I went along with two of the Belfast Babes (Saoirse and Magda) to do the very neon makeup of 4 lovely lady dancers.

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Oh my god it was cold in that warehouse.  It was also cold on Saturday in the studio where I did a bit of bodypainting on a 3-months pregnant model, but I wasn’t the one in the buff so I shouldn’t really be complaining about the temperature.

photo credit: Tam Palmer at True Perfection Photography, Glasgow  phone: 07885 988660 www.trueperfectionphotography.com

photo credit: Tam Palmer at True Perfection Photography, Glasgow
phone: 07885 988660
http://www.trueperfectionphotography.com

test shot on my mobile phone to see how the bark pattern was coming up

test shot on my mobile phone to see how the bark pattern was coming up

I’ve got a couple of exciting projects coming up this week as well; first up, David Bowie makeup on a male and female model tomorrow, can’t wait!

Here’s Gerling with Enter Space Capsule because they’re Australian and it’s Australia Day.

orange you happy

24 Jan

Me and Dana stopping traffic.

not sure what your WiFi's like Chris, but this is for you :)

not sure what your WiFi’s like Chris, but this is for you 🙂

I realised the other day that I’m not worried about money.  This isn’t to say that I have enough money or that I shouldn’t be worried.  My mind’s just been on other things.  Also currently not overly fussed about bum size.  What’s going on?

 

the early bird catches the worm (gross)

23 Jan

It’s true that the early risers, by default, have ended up setting the schedule for the rest of us dreamers.  We were too busy snoozing to stop them.  Which is kind of annoying if you think about it.  I think there should be a revolution to overthrow this cruel regime in which people are expected to BE PRODUCTIVE in the morning.  Mornings are for eating croissants and taking your sweet time waking up, don’t you think?

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or pancakes

The problem with the ‘morning people’ is that they say things like “I just can’t stay in bed past 8am, even on the weekends!  It feels like I’m wasting the day.”  When people say something like that, what I hear is “I am terrified of being alone with my subconscious, and I am also oblivious to the fun that can be had in a bed at any time of the day”.

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And ‘wasting the day’ – what pish!  What about wasting the deep, dark, glorious night?  You’d have to be a bit evil to go to bed at 7:45pm so you can bounce out of bed at 5:30am the next day for no reason other than to lord it over everyone else.

Or maybe the morning people aren’t sinister at all, maybe they’re just scared of the dark, maybe they just like first go with the newspaper before it gets big splodges of jam on it.  Who’s to know?  So long as they can mask their amusement/disgust at my genuine emotional agony, as I stumble around the kitchen, blind, bloodshot and whimpering, seeking the coffee by smell and touch alone.

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Anyway.  The reason I’m telling you all this is because I have to BE somewhere at 8am on Friday for a (work experience) makeup job.  I say ‘somewhere’ because I don’t know where it is, all I know is it involves a train-ride (sounds miles away doesn’t it) which will mean leaving home at … what, like 6:30am potentially?  That’s the middle of the fucking night!  But it’ll be good.  This comes at a time when lots of fun and interesting makeup work experience opportunities have just sprung up.

On Monday just gone I helped out at a photoshoot that a handful of photography students from my college were doing…

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me doing mega-babe Victoria’s makeup

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DSLR magician Sharon shooting up a storm

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being really helpful holding the light reflector thingy

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In fact there are quite a few fun and exciting shoots coming up, so brace yourselves for some … significantly more professional-looking photos of the makeup I do.  It’s funny, just recently I was really freaking out about where to find the models and photographers I knew I’d need to whip up a decent portfolio.  Now it seems, uh, doable.  It’s because I’m so well-connected.

Don’t worry flogstars, the photos might get more professional, but we’ll still be playing it pretty fast and loose here at Imogen Maxwell Dot Com.  No matter how fancy and professional the photos become, they’ll still be accompanied by my sparkling banter and a bit o’ not-related classic rock or hair metal.  Which brings us to tonight’s tune… oh what shall I pick?

A bit o’ not-related not-classic-rock-or-hair-metal!  I heard this lil number whilst meandering around WordPress, and it’s been stuck in my heid for a few days, which as you’ve probably noticed is the most important factor in deciding what goes up on the ole flog here.  ENJOY.

have you ever noticed…

21 Jan

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van halen 1984

Who wants to be my smokin’ angel?

how very pinteresting

19 Jan

That’s right flogstars, I’m a Pinhead now.

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Check out my ‘online portfolio’ at http://www.pinterest.com/imogenmaxwell/makeup-by-me/ …and let me know if you’re on there, too, so I can sniff around your pinboards in return!

I didn’t give a damn about Pinterest until WordPress (hosts of this here flog) told me that if you’re blogging – or in my case, flogging – about subject matter with a highly visual element, such as makeup… then Pinterest is potentially one of your biggest referrers.

That means if I have pretty pictures of my makeup work on Pinterest, and people click on them… they’ll land right here.  More site traffic = faster track to world domination.  So now you can have a wee squizz at my finished works all in one place, if you so fancy.  Quicker for when you’re telling someone about how brilliant I am, for example.

Pinterest, for those who don’t know, is an online pinboard where you can store and share pictures and ideas.  Think… mood-boards for weddings, home decoration ideas…

does the carpet match the curtains?

does the carpet match the curtains?

…recipes, crafts, architecture, nail art, tattoos, photography… you get the gist.

I started an account a while ago with the thought that it would come in handy for college somehow, but only really started using it the last week or two.  I just didn’t really get it before, but it’s fun and there’s loads of cool shit on there.

You can have as many pinboards on the go as you like, and I’m finding it handy for organising the pics/ideas that I use for inspiration in my makeup world.  Plus, it’s yet another medium through which to obsess about David Bowie.

You are just perfection.

You are just perfection.

Speaking of inspiration.  My own creative river hasn’t been flowing for a while now and I’m starting to get worried.

Makeup Is Art by Jana Ririnui and Lan Nguyen

Makeup Is Art by Jana Ririnui and Lan Nguyen

I just bought this book on Amazon to try and rectify the situation.  Do any of you out there have a favourite art/design/makeup book that you refer to during ideas-droughts?  Let me know!

And so to bed.  Tomorrow brings with it my first photo shoot of this year, and I’ve got brushes to clean!

Here’s Mick and the boys twerking in sailor suits to send you off to the land of nod.  Sweet dreams, flogstars XX

a journey through space and time

9 Jan

It was weird being back.  People who have lived away from home for more than a year or two will know what that’s like.  But while a lot of people have travelled, not many have stayed away.

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I didn’t mean to stay away, it just kind of happened.

Leaving, and then being away, were really hard at first, then ‘travelling’ turned somehow into ‘working’ and ‘routine normal life’, and I made real friends, and put down tentative roots, and being here was easier than going back.

On my first visit back to Adelaide, after a year away, I brought my makeup kit back to Scotland, so you might say things got kind of serious at that stage.  However, now at the 6-years-away mark, I’m still on PAYG mobile.

It’s a surprisingly complicated thing to talk about; every time in the last six years, when I’ve been asked by an Adelaide friend or relative when I’m coming home, I have to pick my words so carefully.  I like it here, in Scotland.  Which is not to say that I don’t like Adelaide, and that I don’t want to be there, or even that I like Scotland more than Adelaide.  Shock!

What it feels like I am being asked, really, is why we – Adelaide, your friends, your family – aren’t enough to keep you here?  What’s so good about Scotland, with its shitty weather and tiny wages and the fact that it’s not Australia?  It feels like people take it personally, and are offended, that I choose to live in a damp, malnourished bog instead of in their golden land of milk and honey.

As you can see, I also find it impossible to talk about this without slagging both Scotland and Australia off.

It’s not that Scotland is better than Australia or Australia is better than Scotland… it’s all about me, flogstars.  I’m better in Scotland.  I love it here, and I love it in Australia as well, in fact I am very jealous of everyone who lives in Australia, casually BBQing on the beach without a care in the world apart from the poisonous wildlife winding around their ankles.

Here in Scotland I am regarded as a brave but foolhardy soul, choosing to live thousands of miles away from all that is familiar, braced against year-round 90mph winds and driving rain.  The Scots think that if I can put up with all of that, then I must really love them and their country, and right there’s an easy brownie point.  People like to be liked.

There’s something about living somewhere you’re not from.  That concept is plenty of people’s idea of hell, from what I understand.  But it’s great.  As I’m not from here, I can excuse myself from all that is wrong with the place (wasn’t me!), and equally enjoy all that is right with it.  That line of argument weakens with every election that comes and goes, and I think will be completely void after September’s independence referendum.  But anyway, because I have (for now) passed up my right to live and work in Australia, land of sunshine and reliable yearly dominance of World’s Most Liveable Cities lists, my decision to live in Scotland is conscious, deliberate, and dedicated.

So in that way, when a Scottish person asks me, goggle-eyed with disbelief, why I choose to live in Glasgow instead of Adelaide, it’s easier to answer than when I’m asked the same question by an Adelaide friend or relative.  I’m complimenting them and their country, and covertly insulting my own, aren’t I?

Visits back are like re-entering a house that was abandonned mid-morning, years ago.  Evidence of who I was and what I was doing are everywhere, cluttered in boxes at my parents’ house, spoken in questions from loosely-in-touch friends.

While my Australian life has laid dormant for six years now, life in Australia has obviously not.  People have children, different jobs, different relationships with me and each other, different priorities.  When I am plopped right into the middle of it, it is a perhaps eerie reminder for all of us, what it was like – what we were like, what life was like – six years ago when I was still there.  Evidence of the passage of time is often unsettling and seldom welcome, I find.  Maybe I am imagining it, but I can’t be the only one who is terrified at how fast six years can just … go.

It is easy enough, in essence, to pick up where you leave off with most people.  Some (MUM) might say that I am rubbish at keeping in touch.  Most of you reading this are probably real life friends/relatives/acquaintances, and got here through a link on my Facebook.  If we do know each other, maybe we chat online from time to time, maybe you’re one of the tiny handful that I email or post things to or text when I’m pissed.

Maybe you just watch me and we don’t really talk.  The Imogen Maxwell Experience has become quite the multi-media spectacular.  If Facebook, Instagram or this flog are the main picture you have of me, the jetlagged, disorientated, short-tempered, teary and easily startled version before you during my visit to Adelaide must have been somewhat of a letdown.

So how was my Christmas, did I have a good time back home?  What are visits to Adelaide like for me, after 6 years away?  At risk of sounding even more defensive and self-pitying than I already do, they’re bloody hard going.  I’m too jetlagged to try and think of another way to say ’emotional rollercoaster’.

Seeing my friends and family, the perfect weather, the foooooood… it was all wonderful.  Overwhelmingly so.  Yet I felt under a huge amount of pressure.  I felt guilty, and resentful of that guilt.  I had nowhere near as much time or energy as I would have liked.  Feeling these simultaneous extreme highs and lows is exhausting, travelling to the other side of the world to jump straight into almost constant socialising is exhausting, especially after months without a day off.  Being plucked from the comfort of routine and dropped blinking into an opposite climate and schedule, waking up starving hungry at 4am unable to get back to sleep, ready to lie down on the ground and die from fatigue by 3pm, trying hard to slap on your game face while your nearest and dearest just don’t understand why you can’t just smile and enjoy yourself and be grateful.  Feeling misunderstood.  All the tiny details of your former daily life that are familiar and unrecogniseable at the same time.

I started this post to try and articulate what it’s like, these visits home.  I thought writing this post would sort out in my own mind, and help me to explain better to people who don’t know what jetlag feels like, who can’t understand why – when they ask me if I enjoyed my 2 weeks back home – my answer is “…yes?…”  The same people who don’t understand how it is I can be away from my friends and family for so long.

Although I now think it’s really me who needs those answers.

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