The 60´s. When models had no union representation and photographers still thought surrealism was quite neat.

We open on 1967.  A fat 45 year old man in a beret is smoking a cigarette through one of those long cigarette holder things.

“Ok, here´s how the shoot´s going to go.  I want you to look out at the ocean in a relaxed manner… oh, and by the way we´re going to put this big old stinky, sharp toothed, dangerous looking fish in your pants… yep, that´s right honey it pays to read the fine print on your contract and maybe not smoke so much of that weed all you kids are into these days.  Don´t look at me that way, I´m the greatest photographer the world has ever seen and you´re lucky to even be here”

We close on 1967. Thankfully.


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