READY FOR MY CLOSE-UP

Look at me. HERE I AM. Gaze at me. Have a good look. Give me the once-over. SEE ME. Consider me. Relate to me. OO-OO-PICK MEEEE.  

My professional calling card back in the day.

A very CLOSE-UP likeness of my kisser.

No pocket-sized, wallet-sized innocent snapshots are these, but rather zoomed in magnifications of my mug. A photo captured for posterity and for all the decision-makers to Ponder. Critique. Judge. Form an opinion. Scrutinize.

HEAD SHOTS.

8 x 10 business cards conveying a just-what-they-are-looking-for confidence. And transparently pleading: I REALLY NEED THIS JOOOOOBBBBB.

While striking a pose, meandering and torturing thoughts race through one’s head. I think I speak for most when I say that these up-close-and-personal pics are quite uncomfortable to carry off.

What is the make-up artist doing to my eyebrows? Why didn’t I bring that other top? What am I doing with my face? Why am I so awkward? Is my mouth twitching?  Should I tilt my head? Is this supposed to be fun? My lips are sticking to my teeth. This doesn’t feel like my normal smile. Stop sweating. Who am I? I’m trying to tell a story with my eyes… but the plot line escapes me.

So much posturing while trying to make your shot memorable AND look like you in real life AND give casting people an idea of what characters you could play AND what your possible occupations could be AND what your personality particularities are… AND, AND, AND this is just to be considered for the audition.

Post posing, the contact sheets were filled with what seemed to be rows and rows of dizzying versions of you. And then you had to choose the winner and two or three alternates. I did acquire a loupe to magnify the thumbnail sized photos and then ask parents, husband, friends, mailman, bus driver to weigh in – comment – collaborate – narrow down – weed out… JUST TELL ME WHICH ONE TO PICK!

Then you got to do a bit of retouching. No fancy filters, just a couple of stray hairs, perhaps a shadow or a bit of red around the eyes. If I were doing this now I might propose: how ‘bout removing some uninvited lines (here, here and there). Whiten my teeth? Lengthen my lashes? Sculpt my face? Noooo? Oh right, it’s supposed to look like me in my obvious age range. SH*T.

And the multiple copies of that face printed and branded with whatever name I was going by at the time? Those hard copies were brought to every audition, every agency in town, and yes snail-mailed periodically. $$$. That face of mine –  likely discarded in many a trash can across our great city. What an image…

With little tweaks in style, the trend back then was black and white and continued to be so throughout my career. Just have a gander at the charming pictorial documentation of my edgy, buttoned-up, free-spirited, mysterious modifications extracted from yesteryear.

Get a load of this stunner. Who thought this would be a good idea? Oh… I did. The pose, the cap, the distinctive upper body scarf (was I topless?) – appropriate for a revue à la  Chippen-gals.

Called in to audition as a spokeswoman for an infomercial was, unbeknownst to me, based on the version of me below. I knew nothing about the product in advance… and probably never asked. Whatever interpretation of me entered the room that day was clearly not what they had anticipated as they looked from pic to me, pic to me, pic to me with much confusion.

I may as well have gone in as this spinoff of me…

There was (is?) something called a ‘comp’; a composite of photos meant to represent your various “types”. And here is mine dug up from the ancient ruins.

Notice how my facial expression never really changes… but how believable I am as a potential activities director for “The Love Boat”. Observe how I can wear many hats to portray both my dark and dangerous and softly alluring sides. Get a load of how I breathe life into the subtext of my chosen breakfast. Who okay-ed these prizewinners? Oh yeah, me… again. Apparently my glove size was very important! And there was me, again, certain I’d be utterly irresistible by merely using my first-and-middle name. Last but not least, someone thought it would be a great idea to include one’s SS#. This time, not me.

Although that is is only a sampling of what I submitted my hair to – lucky me to have all these images chronicling all my hairdos through the decades. And there are some doozies. For instance…

Was I smizing? Was my inner emotional life clearly on view? Was my ability as a dancer, singer, actor written all over my face? Did I project the desired characteristics? Did I stand out in a good way… or like a sore thumb?  

It was kind of traumatic.

Now when posing I just tell my husband… don’t be so close, move on back, a little further, further, more distance please, fall back fella, back away, BACK OFF!

Ahhhh – that’s more like it.

Photo credits: Cecily Hunt, Helmut Lipschis, Jennifer Girard and I wish I could remember the rest

Who’s with me? ⤵