National Niki Taylor Day!b_1975

*I was also the assistant on this photograph,
and the technician who processed, and printed, this film.
And I remember with great dread the last piece of 16 x 20 fiber based paper,
because I hadn't properly ordered the right paper.
And I remember with greater irony the fact that no one,
bar me and me alone,
would know that I knocked of a perfect 16" x 20" print.
I'm sure it was 35mm, but it could have been 6 x 7.
Either way: first, and only, fiber print. Retouched. Straight to POST MORTEM for the cover.

Probably the best overall supermodel story of my life.

I got lost, yes, lost, on Hollywood Beach, near the pine trees,
with Niki Taylor, then, 15. Sixteen, MAYBE.

And like any good (read: eager-beaver) photo assistant,
I emptied my pockets (a common practice) so as not to mix
"my stuff" with the photographer's "stuff."

This was 1988. 1989. MAYBE. (I remember the shoot for W at The Forge that 4th of July. When Niki didn't know HOW to wear couture Valentino, and stood on the (hidden) milkcrate for height?

And Barbara, God bless Barbara. Offering to help carry any of the photo equipment, the equipment for the clothing, the racks. Anything. Anything at all.

Back to the Beach.
We got lost. For over two hours (you have it on the soul of my greyhound Grace!) we walked, north, instead of just south.

And I didn't have money for even a drink for Niki.
And we talked about Batman.

And I felt like the Joker.

with the most beautiful woman I'd ever see,
and spent time with,

and I couldn't make tap water from salt water.

She signed the SEVENTEEN cover months later:

I'll go for a walk with you again anytime...

Later, I said "no thank you" to Barbara when she asked me, in my employer's foyer, if I'd like to photograph Niki.

I read years before, at Club Newhouse, that you didn't accept work while under the aegis of another. Don't dine at your employer's bank.

So I said no.

Happy Birthday.
I remember.

You owe me that walk!