Today I went downtown at lunchtime to have my picture taken. Every so often the Bar Association of Erie county updates its member pictorial. I think they might do it every 5 years. The bar puts together this book that identifies all the lawyers in the area - I guess so when you go to court you know what your opponent actually looks like. It's fun looking back at the old editions and seeing how badly everyone has aged. Ouch.
Each year, my picture is next to Bill's. That's kind of nice. When I checked in with the photographer at bar headquarters I almost screwed up. She asked me how I would like my name. I said: "Elizabeth Martin Savino." When I looked down at the sheet she was filling out, I realized that the way she had set it up, I would have been sorted under 'M': she had written my last name as Martin Savino.
"Oh no - you've got to change that" I said. "I'm really a Savino". That sounded kind of funny.
Then she eyeballed my outfit and wrote down "white shirt..." I interrupted her again and said:
"Oh, no - I'm not wearing this. It's casual day at work and I was in jeans. I had brought a suit jacket, thinking that only my torso would be showing.
"Well, what color is it?" she inquired.
"Navy blue, I think". I pulled the rumpled mess out of my large bag, gave it a few swipes with my hand and unfurled the collar.
"Yes, navy blue. Can I change somewhere? "
"We have a bathroom right here... perhaps.... you'd like to comb your hair?"
Not only did I comb my hair, I put on lipstick and reapplied some mascara! I showed her!!
I sat on the proffered stool, complied completely with the requests of the photographer and tried to appear demure yet firm, sweet but fierce. I thought about looking "fierce" as an homage to Tyra Banks and even asked the photographer if he'd like that look. He suggested that I stick with my original smile. So I stuck my chin out, tried to hide the turkey skin in my neck and set my shoulders back and down. I told myself "think perky breasts" and maybe they'll comply.
We were done in seconds. While I sat there making adjustments I couldn't hep but think: rather than complying with the photographer's directions, why don't they just erect a big mirror so the subject can actually see how they look themselves and adjust their gaze/smile/collar/crazy hair, accordingly. Hasn't anybody thought of that? I have to rely on someone I've never met, someone who clearly hasn't figured out my best side, to choose the best angle.
He may be a professional, but I am a control freak.
Let's hope the picture comes out OK and that I haven't aged too badly. In 2016 I'm definitely taking a hand mirror with me. And scheduling my session with Bill.