After eight full hours of prepping twelve models along with a team of at least fifteen people it was time to watch the runway show that would last about three minutes.
It was one of the most unusal shows I have worked on. My part was all in the prep for the main stylist. Hand bobby pins, curl hair, wrap hair around a long tube, apply makeup.
Around me were body painters, models in various stages of readiness, crew getting the lighting, music and red carpet ready. The entire venue was filled and sectioned off in areas of makeup, hair, body paint, costumes, and blisfully an area that had hot chocolate.
The cast of characters were unique, talented, funny, and creative. Some of us have worked together before. Some I just met for the first time but have wanted to work with. We exchanged tips, knowledge, and business cards.
Minutes before the show when my last and final job of making sure the models all had lipgloss was over, I sat down.
A conversation was struck up with the woman next to me about her work as a body painter/artist. We have worked together before.
She leaned over and said, "So how did you get on this gig?"
"Well, I got the call two nights ago that they needed extra help and..."
"You are a "Yes Whore", yeah, me too."
A Yes Whore. I laughed. I had never heard the term but I knew exactly what she meant.
"Can you do this shoot?" Yes
"Will you give up your day off to come in for this client?" Yes
"Do you know how to make hair look like _________?" Yes
"Can you pick me and my friends up from the mall and take us to the movies?" Yes
I have always known that I have problems with setting boundaries, and I tend to become over enthusiastic with projects, commitments, and scheduling.
I had always thought my problem was my inability to say "No." It is in fact my eagerness to say "yes" that causes me to feel an internal pulling of a hundred different directions.
This is not to say that every time the word exists my mouth I do not mean it. By being a "yes whore" I have learned to do some great things in my field. I have been given opportunities I would not otherwise have, and I have met very interesting people.
I have also over booked myself.
I do not want the invites to stop. I will continue being a "yes whore" for a while, until I feel confident enough in my field to say, "I wish I could."
The hours of prepping, observing, socializing, networking, and even burning my finger on a curling iron paid off for me in the eye opening way of discovering I am a "yes whore."
Knowing when to say "yes" and saying "no" are very different things.
Yes, I know the difference now.
Ah, my dear Ames... how reading this blog post brought back memories. First, my heart pounded with excitement. There is nothing like the feel of a pre-show or pre-shoot energy! At the risk of sounding like the Bitter Broken Beautician, I will tell you my mistakes, knowing you are too smart to ever repeat them. For six years I was a Beauty "Yes, Whore." I spent 8 hours behind a chair, then my free time making wigs and hairpieces and costumes. Running from this location to that with an hours notice, wondering if I had enough colors of eye-shadow in my make-up kit. I was constantly at Hobby Lobby, Michael's. and Beauty Supplies. I was forever being called by another photographer wanting a Yes, Whore. In exchange I would get photos, they would promise. That I could use for my portfolio. I would get my name out there. I would get clients from it. I would get more education. I got more of those things, for sure. I did get more on-site bridal work, which made me money. But I also got a lot more photographers that knew I was a yes whore that needed me. Still, I was enamaored of the never-ending stream of "IT" parties full of beautiful people doing "IT" things and always being passed a glittering jewel-like alcoholic beverage and being told I was doing a good job by the Main Primadonna or Fashion Nazi. I still see print ads in magazines and advertisements I didn't get credit for. Even ones I did get credit for I shrugged at. I realized at my last Fashion show, after doing 18 models hair and make-up with just me and my assistant that I was done. Fini. I cried when they walked down the catwalk. Not because they didn't look great, because they DID! I was so tired of seeing such hard days work on a medium be such an impermanent art form. I was tired of my car looking like a drag Queen exploded in it. It was fun, and I would never take back the experience. But in the end, besides learning how to make costumes with nothing but a stapler, some tape, scraps of fabric and adhesive velcro... and some great hairstyling and make-up tricks... all I learned is that I didn't value myself ENOUGH. I didn't ask for enough credit. I only got about 1,000 of my photos out of potentially 5,000. And I got so sick of the Biz I won't even renew my license. I was not as smart as you, and didn't learn the difference between when to say "yes", and when to say "No" until I was so burnt out and sick it was too late. But that was an important lesson, and it was a fun way to learn it!
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