I’ve got my shoot bag on my shoulder, it’s 10am on a Monday morning and I’m on the tube going to Oxford Circus.
I’m weirdly un-made-up, my old jeans are paint-splattered, and I’ve already had to stop and profusely apologise to the poor old woman that I mashed with my bag full of shoes and knickers.
Today I’m shooting on Carnaby street, wearing Nikita Sablier for Noctournal magazine, and my day is obviously off to a remarkably un-goth (and un-glamorous) start.
After falling up the escalators coming out of Oxford Circus tube and spilling my bag, I’m starting to wonder if my day is cursed and if I should just go home right now, when three visions holding a sign (saying ''I am Bink'') come into sight and cheer me up no end.
These three ladies are topless model Ava Dvornik, alternative fetish model Ella De Vine, and, of course, nude model Madam Bink, who cheers me up the very, very most.
She has decided to wear a pair of skintight and slightly worn (and thus see-through ) leggings without knickers to cover her amazing, one-of-a-kind bottom which is pretty much plainly seen in the bright sunlight as she jiggles down Carnaby Street.
Obviously, I’ve never met Bink before today, but by the end of the five minute walk to the Sablier shop in Kingly Court, just off Carnaby Street, I feel I know her intimately.
I’m also doing the make-up on this particular shoot, so after brief introductions, I grab a corner, spill all my crap out over the table in the shop, turn on an extra-bright interrogation light and make Bink sit in front of it while I, to use her words, “'Goff her face” .
It’s a beautiful hot day, Ava and Ella are cooing over the gorgeous clothes, and I feel quite guilty dragging them away from them to goff their faces too.
After I’ve messed with their hair and they're all suitably goff, I do a speed job of my own hair and make-up so that I can get into my outfit as soon as possible.
It’s a gorgeous long-length gold vine patterned corset and flouncy black petticoat skirt which are being teamed with nude stockings — something I can swear I’m wearing today for the very first time ever!
The first set is all four of us in black and gold corsets and party dresses, stood underneath the Carnaby Street sign. It’s marvellous.
The British queuing mentality comes into play in force and we're soon surrounded by a crowd of people about 100 strong, clicking away on their cameras and thinking we must be famous as we're out in party dresses in the day and we've a personal photographer shooting us as we pose.
We're not, obviously, but none of us is going to disillusion anyone — we're enjoying the attention far, far too much. Apart from the crack addict who has his hand down his trousers and is humping the air in front of him. I think we'd all do quite a lot to disillusion him.
It has been a marvellous day but I’ve got to run, as I’m having leaving drinks because I’m moving home. (But don’t worry, I’m not going far, and you'll still see me sailing around our debaucherous haunts.)
I grab Ella and we run to the Intrepid Fox for a very very well deserved flaming absinthe shot. Or six. A successful day, I feel.
My gorgeous Nikita Sablier outfit is teamed with nude stockings — something I can swear I’m wearing today for the very first time ever!