That’s me off to Oz, flogstars. At time of scheduled publication, Chloe and I will be kicking back in the business lounge at the Glasgow International Airport, supping down free cocktails and eating all the free cheese and chocolate like the high-rollers we are.
See you again in January. Maybe I’ll flog while I’m away, maybe I won’t.
Don’t miss me too much 🙂
A very good tune for the beginner air-drummer. Enjoy! And seriously, don’t you forget about me.
xX
I did a makeup, y’all. Three makeups actually, but so far I only have photos of two.
This was for hair magician Stephen Doran of Vidal Sassoon in Prince’s Square (Glasgow).
Photographs by Bryce Lowrie.
Models are Yasmin Coll and Darnell Starks Jr.
Check their foxiness:
It was loads of fun working with all of them 🙂
Speaking of having amazing hair and being extraordinarily attractive, here are sexy noo yoikas Station with their bangin’ tune Everything. Seriously, I feel sorry for you if you don’t click on the music clips I embed to pleasure each and every one of you aurally. You’d be missing out.
This song is one of a very small handful that I can always rely on to put me in a good mood, no matter what. It was also my go-to ‘sound check’ track for whenever I moved the speakers 1mm in any direction at the backpackers, and would need to put something on at the highest volume just to make sure they were working OK.
So press play, and enjoy the next 4:40 of your life, kids. You’re welcome.
Or, a love letter to Irish makeup artist Maria Malone. (www.instagram.com/mariamalone1122 – twitter @mersartmakeup)
Bob Marley
Robert DeNiro
Elvis
Jack Nicholson
Marlon Brando
HELL’S BELLS, that is some amazing face painting right there. Mad skillz, Maria (I really hope that is your name, I just kind of assumed from your Instagram name…) – I want to be like you when I grow up *Admiration and disbelief face*
Keep practicing, Imo. One day, grasshopper.
In other news, I’m in love.
no, not with myself. OK, maybe I am, a little bit.
![DSC_0004[1]](https://imogenmaxwell.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/dsc_00041.jpg)
This guy! My new gadget, my first DSLR. Scream! Regular readers will be aware that I have a pretty jizz-worthy collection of photographic hardware… all of it analogue, except my Samsung smartphone and the new Nikon.
Where the love affair with 35mm film photography got serious; the first camera I owned that wasn’t disposable. My NIkon FG, a gift from my parents on my 19th birthday. Sexual 70s strap came along years later, pilfered from my Olympus OM10
![DSC_0011[1]](https://imogenmaxwell.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/dsc_00111.jpg)
THE Fisheye. Watermelon print, cos that’s how we roll here at imogenmaxwell.com
get your own (but not watermelon, stop copying me, also they were limited edition and they don’t sell them any more, HA) from Urban Outfitters in the UK, or http://www.lomography.com for all you international flogstars
And Dad, if you’re reading this and cross-checking Amazon for roughly how much I spunked on this, can I just say most of my student loan went on clearing my overdraft and credit card, and paying my rent right up until March. And I NEEEEEEEDED it, amazing photos for my professional portfolio aren’t going to take themselves! 😉
You might think I’m about to sign off with Girls On Film, but I have an irrational hate for Duran Duran. I would elaborate if I could, but I really can’t explain it. So instead, not photography related, also not my usual 80s hair/glam metal crapfest, but glorious nonetheless. Here are the Troggs, With A Girl Like You, cos it’s my favourite love song today.
Sweet dreams, lovers Xx
me, awkwardly failing the pencil test since… oh, 1997?
Today was our first bodypainting session. Our tutor Janet demonstrated a few techniques, painting a black corset with gold lace and roses, on one of our brave and gorgeous classmates (Jen), who was an awfully good sport about the whole thing.
Here’s the one photo I took, of everyone being pervy and taking photos of Jen with her baps out.
.
I asked Jen’s permission to upload this photo here, on my flog.
“Jen”, I said solemnly, “It is one thing to stand topless in front of 20 of your silent, gawping classmates for an hour while Janet paints your nips. It’s one thing to have a photo of your blacked-out rack all over Facebook, but quite another to have it on this, the greatest flog in all the land, a modern-day oracle, revered by titans of the cosmetic industry, creators, producers, artists, muses, rebels, waifs, designers, dreamers and lovers alike. Are you SURE you don’t mind me publishing this smartphone photo of your side-boob to the finest minds on the internet, my international audience of millions? Think carefully Jen, are you ready to become iconic, timeless, an indelible mark on the annals of cultural history, a part of the Imosphere… forever?”
Jen did one better. “Course it’s fine, I’ve got some better pics if you’d prefer to use those, I’m not shy!”
Then it was everyone else’s turn to strip off and give it a go. We are all much better acquainted now.
This is what I whipped up in my first attempt:
only took me like ten minutes, too. LOL, this is not, I repeat NOT, my work, I totally stole this image from … holy shit, I lost my reference page. Not good. Sorry, whoever this belongs to. UGH, this is the WORST blog etiquette, Imogen, the WORST. Not taking the picture down, mind, it’s too cool. Forgive me, blog gods.
Moving on, the afternoon class (Basic Makeup) involved me being cruelly separated from my beloved study-buddy Sinead, and paired with the equally delightful Magda:
hope y’all aren’t sick of these mirror photos, there are SO MANY more to come
who did this ‘basic 4-shadow blend’ on my mug:
everyone else in the class has nailed their ‘face for when a close-up photo is being taken of your makeup’ – not this guy.
And that was all in a day’s work, best beloved. I’m pooped.
A song before bedtime, you say? Go on.
Here’s Eels with The Good Old Days, from the album Shootenanny! (the exclamation mark is part of the album title, not just my enthusiastic punctuation). This song choice will surprise regular readers, who normally brace themselves for some terrible 80s hair metal at this time of the flog. I chose this song because I couldn’t get a link to All In A Day’s Work from the same album, and also because it’s beautiful, and nice and mellow for this time of night.
What is Shootenanny! doing in my CD collection, if I also own not one but TWO Iron Maiden albums? I’ll tell you. I was going to save this story for publication in a fucking epic post in which I interview myself, but let’s treat ourselves.
The most sensible new year’s resolution I ever had was to buy one new album every payday. I might reinstate that one actually, when I have paydays again that is, LOL. Anyhoo, Eels had a song on the radio that I liked, so I bought their album, loved it, then went to their show at the Thebarton Theatre in Adelaide, when they toured. This would have been about ten years ago.
Of every live music performance I have ever seen, and not to brag or anything but I have seen shitloads, Eels are the only band I’ve seen who kept playing after the show really was over. And I mean over. I don’t mean an encore. Lights were on, power was shut off, everyone had left. There was probably a lone wee guy sweeping up empty plastic beer cups. Still they kept going. My pal EJ and I were there until almost the bitter end; I don’t know how long they actually kept playing for, and the only reason I know for sure that they’re not still going on that very same stage is because I have seen other shows there since.
Anyway, Shootenanny! is a great album, and reminds me of… a time in my life that was technically a bit shit in a few ways, I hated my job for example, but music that makes you remember anything always makes you a bit fond, doesn’t it.
I strongly dislike airbrushing. It’s frustrating. The guns we use at college aren’t the best, and it’s impossible to clean them properly. That, and our class is 20-odd chicas, so we all have to share. Everything. All the time. There’s one of each thing we need, and 20 people wanting to use it at the same time. Gah!
I just… don’t like sharing.
And as previously mentioned, the makeup itself is minging. It has turned my skin to that of a 14 year old boy, yet when it’s on my face, sinking into my pores and wrinkles and looking like a thick hideous mask, that ugly crap somehow manages to make me look 100 years old. Bah!
Anyway, that’s today’s makeup bitch. Airbrushing will come in handy when it’s body-paintin’ time…
stencilicious
…I just don’t like it on my face. And college is awesome, in fact, and we only have to do airbrushing for another couple of weeks before we move on to other stuff.
ermagherd
And even though there are more people than required materials in the class, mostly everyone’s mostly cool. The tutors are all great, and it’s nice to sit in a classroom without wishing your time away.
I pay so much attention.
So this week, apart from hating on airbrush guns, we’ve been doing normal basic makeup/foundation…
makeup is gross
….and we also continued with studio portraits for our portfolio production. Here are some behind the scenes shots for your enjoyment:
my view
then we got fancy AND schmancy with the lighting
snap.
So that’s what’s going oooon, dear reader. Tomorrow, computer class in the a.m. and WIG-WORK in the afternoon! Couldn’t you just die?
Here’s Def Leppard with their 1983 (a very good year) single, Photograph. From Pyromania, back when Rick had both arms. It’s not my favourite DL song, but it’s not my least favourite either – and it’s topical, so bloody well listen to it, alright? 😉
x Imo
also, how BUFF is my arm? That’s my left arm, too.
Here I am at college, looking pensively out the window, wishing they’d fucking give us some notice for the days we’re having our photo taken so I’d know to spend a bit of time on my hair and makeup.
I’m also reflecting on poor old Miley Cyrus’s makeup in her latest music video – is it MEANT to look terrible? As if it was hastily applied by someone who had never used liquid liner before? As if the makeup artist had none of her kit with her that day, and so had to borrow stuff from someone who doesn’t really have any makeup, except for this old mascara sample and lip crayon that came free with a magazine 8 years ago and has been sitting untouched in a desk drawer ever since?
If so, job done, but it still bothers me. More than her bare arse on that demolition ball. You don’t want dust there.
Anyway, enough about Miley, this is imogenmaxwell.com after all.
3 weeks into my course and I can still scarcely believe that Googling pictures of David Bowie and making scrapbooks of makeup pictures is now, officially, what I do. No longer a slightly eccentric indulgence furtively carried out behind closed doors. A legitimate passtime. Positively reinforced by tutors who recognise my ability to Google pictures of David Bowie with unbroken focus for hours on end as sure signs of passion and commitment.
I am in actual heaven.
Anyway. What did I do apart from go Bowie-gif-crazy this week, you ask? Why, more airbrushing, of course. I only just realised that the eyeshadow, below, I did on Sinead is a little bit inspired by David’s, above. Interesting. STOP TALKING ABOUT DAVID BOWIE IMOGEN, NO ONE ELSE CARES.
my patient model Sinead
Airbrushing is a messy little bastard, if you’ve never had the pleasure. My own jury is still out on the whole business; I mean, I know I’ve only had two shots at it, but I can’t really see the point so far. It’s messy, it smells weird, you look like a newsreader with it on, it doesn’t come off, it takes longer than normal makeup, and cleaning the gun is a real pain in the can.
see? MESSY!
splotches everywhere from the damn gun spitting! Ffffffuck!
the look now complete with Aunt Sally pink blush
We also did face charts, which is colouring in, but less fun because you’re doing it with makeup that doesn’t stick to paper (if it’s powder) or doesn’t blend properly (if it’s cream). But kind of cool anyway. Here’s my first one:
show us yer cheekbones
So that’s what’s all going on at college, y’all.
Bet you’re wondering what song will accompany today’s flog post. David Bowie? Not today. Not even the Misfits even though I’m wearing my Misfits top in my window portrait up top there. No, not the Misfits. Don’t worry, not Miley either. How about some Korn because it’s a cool video and they’re about to release a new album for the first time in ______ years?
Chloe and I travelled through space and time down to London last week, for the David Bowie Is exhibition at the Victoria & Albert Museum. She bought us flights and a night in a hostel right by the museum for my birthday, and THAT, boys and girls, is how you win employee of the month.
So here is a little photo essay, scroll down really fast to animate and it’s almost like you’re there with us. Soundtrack: us screeching “HOW FUCKING MUCH?” every time we had to pay for something.
it would probably be quicker to WALK from Oban to London but public transport is just so much funnnn
After … about 30 hours in transit, we finally arrived in London. It was HOT down there – up in the highlands, summer so far has been humid and freezing, the worst of both worlds. But in London, blue skies and legit t-shirt temperatures!
Nelson’s Column, London Eye in the background.
We checked in to our hostel…
good luck with that
… and beetled straight over to the V&A to check out our chances of getting in the next day. We put on our broadest Australian accents and advised the staff that we had travelled a very. long. way. to see the exhibition, and we were only in London for one day so what did they suggest we do to guarantee a ticket?
Sadly they didn’t usher us into the exhibition after hours so we could dance about trying on the priceless Yamamotos.
Chloe (left) and me dancing about in the priceless Yamamotos. Thanks, yeah, I work out.
But they did tell us to get in line quick-sharp the next morning, and all going well we’d be allowed in. The museum opens at 10am so they told us to come around 9am, but we didn’t take any chances. We were there at 8am because we’re hardcore.
good thing too, this was the line by 9am. We were 15th and 16th from the front, coiled like steel springs ready to fly through the doors at 10:00:01am
We got stand-by tickets to the first showing…
BOOM
and the exhibition was friggin’
squeeeeee
We had to go and drink some vodka in Regent’s Park afterwards to calm down before our flight back up to Scottyland
So then we spent the night in my new flat in Glasgow, which I will be moving in to in 2 weeks from today.
Sad to leave my awesome housemates and weird to leave the town and job that have been home for the last 5 years…
… but excited for the change of scenery and the bloody amazing fun and opportunities that are to come!
So that’s me, kids. I’m spending the next couple of weeks trying to sort out things at work and get my move a’happenin’. I know I’ve really let this flog die in the arse and I do apologise to any disappointed stalkers out there. I’ve got some good ideas for future posts so hang in there and one day I will get my shit together and make it worth your while.
meantime, here are my nails! Silver flame wraps that I bought in Reykjavik earlier this year.
Right, now I’m off to bed, and when I wake up I’m going to make August my BEEEEAATCH. Stay tuned, best beloved xX
I’m lying in bed with my laptop on my chest, full of cake and hangover, but smiling through the pain. Thanks to my family and friends for indulging me, spoiling me, celebrating with me this weekend – feeling very loved and overwhelmed by everyone’s generosity.
So how does one turn 30, Imo-style? Well.
I went down to Glasgow to scope out my new local area…
… continued filming How I Killed Your Father with the delightful David Fernandez…
… got the surprise of my life when Irene came over from Denmark to surprise me for my birthday…
… celebrated the shit out of said birthday, by having a Tarantino co-party with other July baby Agapantha…
can I just point out, the reason I look knackered is too-clever shading and contouring I did so I would look like I had been up all night taking cocaine with Vincent Vega. Not actually so hag-faced in real life, I swear.
Many thanks to resident pastry chef (and fellow Adelaide girl) Keva for the raspberry and white chocolate cheesecake – yummm. Check out her blog here and I challenge you to NOT lick your computer screen.
![20130720_212523[1]](https://imogenmaxwell.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/20130720_2125231.jpg)
Colin as Stuntman Mike. Scar by me.
Ian getting tatted up a la George Clooney in Dusk Til Dawn
… and ripped all my clothes off and jumped into Loch Lomond with Faye, because why not.
This coming week I’m ordering all the kit to start my course next month, but even more exciting than bruise wheels and liquid latex is this – my adventure down to London with Chloe for the David Bowie Is exhibition at the V&A. Giddy up!
ain’t she just the best
So just this once I’ll deviate from the usual hair metal that only I give a shit about, and leave you with the great man himself. A new version of this song is being used to advertise a mobile phone at the moment so here you go, get educated.
You can substitute the lyrics to be “blue, blue, electric blue, is the colour of my poo” if you like.
Until next time, be good. Xx
As this blog is written by someone who actually has “hand-wash dirndl” and “write to Amish pen-pal” on this week’s To Do list, it won’t surprise you to hear that this weekend presents yet another party at which I am expected to dazzle.
And also as you would expect, any party involves dress-ups, if you’re me. Anyone who has ever been to a dress up party knows that this always, always presents a plethora of dilemmas.
While I’ve been called worse things than the Colossus of Costume, obviously I have a reputation to uphold. And a delicate chord to strike; this is a work function, after all. It’s the grand opening of our new building. All of Oban’s titans of industry (????) will be in attendance.
I must present myself as professional!
Capable!
Confident!
Approachable!
Not a liability, in any way!
Auditioning now for body doubles.
Are YOU coming on Saturday? Open day and canapes at Backpackers Plus, see y’all there.
Also, what should I do with my hair? I feel like I’m ‘between haircuts’ at the minute and would really appreciate some sensible suggestions, such as “get extensions to make it even more mullet-y”.
This weekend I’ve been to England and back, for my cousin’s wedding. The weekend before, I went to Germany and back for the beer festival, but you already knew that because you religiously stalk my flog and you’ve been a bit worried because I haven’t posted every other day like I normally do.
I admit, I dropped the ball, best beloved. I’m not telling you about my fabulous life of endless jet-set socialising ONLY to brag about it, but also to excuse my lack of flogging this week.
Did I mention that, in between the last two weekends away (both of which were book-ended by one whole day in transit each direction), we moved premises at work and got the new building open and up and running?
For someone who normally swans about at a luxurious snails’ pace, this business has left me catatonic at the end of each day and completely unable to flog sensibly. Sorry, fans.
To atone, here’s a photo of me and Chloe pre-wedding. This is one of a series of test shots we always take before going out in public, to see how we’re coming up in photos that day. To practice working our angles and check make-up etc.
yes, this is a photo taken in the mirror with the camera on self-timer, balanced on a bottle of vodka, which is balanced on a kettle. You won’t get this kind of behind-the-scenes action again, people, so soak it up.
See “how to be photogenic” for further information/tips on how to be like us.
xXx
digital imologue 