Leigh’s Big Night Out (The Written One)

People… Santa is one hot bitch.

The Jewish Santa that is, or so say some of the models from Thursday nights' outing.

“Ah yes,” you say. “Leigh must have something slightly more interesting to talk about other than him being sick or trying out a new gadget. Maybe this is one of those entries that someone other than me might be interested in.”

And then you'd quickly ask “Is there any nudity?” To which I'd reply… “no”. Followed by “I wish”.

The reason “I wish” is because tonight saw me as the plus-one of Wendell Teodoro at the Chadwick… thingy. Seriously, I don't know what it was. It was a party of some kind with some element of free booze with lots of beautiful women (and if you were so male inclined, probably beautiful men… who were gay).


Okay… I'm going to try to remember names here… from the left… Emma (on the bottom), Amanda (?!) on the top, then Wendell and then… Pip!

 

Yes, it was one of those parties I occasionally frequent although to be honest, I have no idea why I go. It's bloody obvious I'm the outsider.

I don't dress brilliantly. I don't smell of some flashy brand of perfume (though I do have them). I can't make sitting on the edge of a tacky leather “couch” look cool. I carry a camera bag. I'm really, really honest. And, oh, I wear a hat. This time a Santa hat. The same sort of my new Christmas-y logo is wearing off there to the right (unless you're reading this and it's not Christmas in which case that comment means completely nothing).

But all of that was irrelevant as tonight was Chadwick's Christmas thingy. Or I suspect it was a Christmas thing. I mean there were red drinks and… tinsel… and drunk people… and short of a revival of those “Bloody Mary” mirror horror stories, that reads as Christmas all over it. Sure, no one else was wearing a Santa hat and I didn't see any reindeer… but what other reason do people host a party in December?

Maybe the tinsel was all in my head.

I can't remember. So many drinks later, I still wasn't drunk… because, well, that's how I am… and Wendell was. I was giving him mints to placate his restless stomach that probably would have relieved itself right there and then on anything.


A very drunk Wendell and a very sexy Karla.

Ah yes, the evening. Of course. I hate getting off-topic and yet I do it so frequently.

So the evening was mainly a party. There were no speeches, no random people telling you to get bent, no bad attitudes… just lots of people having fun while the occasional police brigade walked through checking for minors.

I don't remember the progress of the night per se. What I do remember, however, is the people.

One of the things that I'm finding from being a writer is that I seem to be developing a sharper and keener ability to memorise places, feelings, and events.


The view of Kings Cross from the balcony. I was probably the only one to pay attention to that. I should probably pay more attention to the women next time. Ahhh… the women.

As a result, I can tell you that the floor overlooking what's practically the entrance to The Cross was a maze of hardwood floors and people. Red and yellow paper-styled vase lights echoing from the seventies shone from the ceiling and creating a relaxing dim light that bathed the entire bar. The couches and chairs were trendy, practically shadowing the feeling of the lights while the DJ's area bounced black lights off of disco balls in what seemed a nod to the seventies.

The DJ seemed to be enjoying himself enough to play through the seventies, eighties, and the nineties giving a packed & drunk audience exactly what they needed to propel themselves forward before the alcohol made them lose ground and fall backwards. The DJ didn't seem to mind. For half the night, he was lost in his own little black-light-lit world as the floors remained as barren as the bride of Frankenstein.


Emma and Lucy (with the head-band-y thing). What's so crap about this image is it's the only image I have of Emma & Lucy together. Here's hoping my memory can keep me going for how gorgeous Lucy is cause it's the only shot I have of her from the night, sadly.

I met Emma & Lucy early in the night. They're beautiful (which is a line you're likely to see quite frequently in this blog entry… someone fetch me a thesaurus!!!). Emma has model looks while Lucy is more of a natural the-girl-who's-your-friend beautiful… which is of course excellent and magnificent. As a result, they're both stunning and I don't think I've ever found the Kiwi accent so bloody sexy.

Grrr… "six" and "chip" and stuff. Mrowwwww!!!… and more stuff.

At one point, we had to help Lauren get in as she was having troubles so Wendell and I stood in front of the elevator for no apparent reason. As people passed by and tried to weave their way around us, we waited like two pigeons expecting that the biggest crumb was just going to magically appear before our eyes.

You know… one of these days, these ridiculous metaphors that I come up with are just going to come to life and then we're all doomed. Can you imagine two pigeons waiting for a giant crumb? What if the giant crumb could talk?! Anyway, onto the next picture.


Emma as candlelight bounces off of her face…


Emma again with more candlelight and the soft glow of streetlights behind her as she sipped champagne amidst the warmth of the party…

Now people who know me know that I've done a little bit of digital operation work. What that means is I sat behind a computer on fashion shoots and made sure stuff was in focus, cameras worked, and that images generally looked good while they were being shot. It's a relatively simple job (for me) and I quite enjoyed it.

One of my early jobs had me working as the Operator for a photographer out of New York named Gregory Kramer. The shoot in question was some sort of Sass & Bide shoot… I don't know who they are. Fashion label of sorts. Anyway, there's was a gorgeous model named Karla (maybe it's spelled with a C… probably is… I'll just use the "K" until I can be bothered to dig around Chadwick's site and find out for sure) who was being used. She was amazing and seemed quite perceptive. She was from New Zealand and was learning photography at the time. This would have been about a year to a year-and-a-half ago.

Guess who was there?

KARLA!!! (And a guy who looked like he may have been her boyfriend… a golfer or something…)

In fact, there was an entire entourage of New Zealand people. When you've just been re-introduced to how sexy the Kiwi accent can be, having an entourage of New Zealanders makes things interesting. Luckily for me, the entourage was mostly men so it wasn't that big o
f an issue. But imagine if they were all women… I'd have never been able to escape with my life (oh if only I were that lucky)!


Wendell Teodoro in black & white. I don't think I've ever used my signature moody black & white style for a portrait of Wendell yet, or before this anyway. Well… now I have!

By the way, I feel I have an obligation to comment on the state of a few important issues as a result of this party.

One is the definition of the word "beautiful" which is — for all intents and purposes — primarily useless when practically everyone around you is, in fact, beautiful.

Your vocabulary actually starts to develop penis envy for anyone that can swing a hammer and say something other than that specific word "beautiful". I feel that if I'm going to an event like a model party, I should probably come equipped with a thesaurus because really, "beautiful" just doesn't cut it. I mean look at some of the words thesaurus dot com spits out when I stick that word in:

  • alluring
  • angelic
  • bewitching
  • cute
  • dazzling
  • delicate
  • divine
  • enticing
  • exquisite
  • foxy
  • gorgeous
  • magnificent
  • pretty
  • pulchritudinous
  • radiant
  • ravishing
  • resplendent
  • sightly
  • stunning
  • sublime
  • superb

I think I used "gorgeous", "beautiful", "stunning" and "brilliant" throughout the night. I use "brilliant" a lot actually.

Mind you, any of those could work to describe these beautiful girls! Shit… I used that word again. I really need to start paying attention to my own writings.

Then there's the other issue: height. 

Without playing the pun, height is a big issue especially when you're talking about people who happen to be err… umm… quite tall.

It's not that it makes you feel small. No, it's not that. Doesn't make you feel like any less of a person either. It's just a little… strange… to realise that you're actually in the minority and that you're walking around with really tall people.  People that you look up to… in a manner of speaking.

I happen to like tall girls. Girls taller than me.

You just can't help but feel like an Oompa Loompa at times. An Oompa Loompa without a song. 


Zoe.

Anyway, continuing on from those "important" issues.

At one point throughout the evening (I think it was as Wendell and I were getting some drinks), we saw Zoe Loveland, a girl I've had the pleasure of seeing in a photo shoot before when I was working as an Operator for James Cant.

She didn't seem to notice Wendell or myself. Oh well.


Emily hugs a drunk and now blind Wendell.

Emily did though, and that's much better. Very down to earth girl. Fantastic bubbling personality and sexy as all hell to boot.

Emily is one of those people that you'd probably find it impossible to hate. Or I guess you could, but you probably would have to have your heart ravaged by wild dogs with vicious attitudes and razor sharp teeth. But we're not talking about wild dogs here… we're talking about Emily, a girl I met some what recently when I went out after the Bowie party with Wendell and some of the crew from Cream. 


When the free tab is about to be closed and you might just have to start paying money for drinks, it should be noted that you can never really be too prepared.

All in all it was a fun night. I guess I would have loved to have come away with a kiss or a peck or something. Anything really. But spending time with some of these people and making some new friends (as well as seeing Wendell drunk) definitely made it quite fun.

Need to do it again soon. Real soon. :P 

More pics below.


Emma bathed in candlelight. Shot by Wendell Teodoro, processed by me.


Emma again shot by Wendell and processed by me.


Some of you may have been curious whose legs were used in that preview post I used recently… well, they're the property of the girl above: Emma.


Much like the first image in this blog, from left to right: Amanda (I think that's her name), Emily, Wendell, Pip, and some random person who just jumped in for no apparent reason… or maybe there was a reason… but I'm pretty sure it wasn't apparent… and it's not becoming apparent to me now or anytime soon. 


Wendell smoking in a high-grain sort of shot. If you squint, he sort of looks like Bob Dylan. Sort of.
Click on the image for a bigger image to look
at…


From left to right: Pip, Lauren, and Wendell.

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