I Like My Women A Little Dirty Hot, Pittsburgh Boudoir Photography, Akron Boudoir Photography
This weekends Boudoir session was epic. Not only did it last many hours but it had this crazy sort of flow. Jennifer and I have known each other for a very very very long time. We were not in touch for many years but we reconnected and picked right up where we left off. Not exactly where we left off. You see there was a time we spent just about every day together and there used to be doll houses, diving boards and a short lived idea about being an all girl group; made no difference we couldn’t sing, dance or play any instrument. So Saturday instead of dressing dolls, we tossed Jen into an outfit change and instead of pretending we were having wine while drinking Fruition, we had real wine. When we first started planning to do this, we were trying to come up with locations. My first inclination was a No Tell Motel. Cheap and by the hour seemed to suit the situation. There is seedy and there is creepy. All of our options came up as the latter. When Jen suggested her Oma’s house. I instantly thought it was a great place to shoot. But the ten year old me made an appearances to remind me we weren’t allowed anywhere but the basement.
First we went through the clothes she and I brought. We are two very different girls. I am saccharine and sweet and Jen is the coolest chick I know. She is just a badass. You could see our personalities laid out before us. I brought pale pink ruffled panties and she brought black, black and some black lace. I am Marilyn and she is Betty.
It took us both a while to warm up. I was shooting with someone else’s gear and my fingers just didn’t feel at home. To Jen’s credit, she wasn’t wearing a whole lot. We shot, we talked, we shot some more and talked more. Nearing the end we shut ourselves into an upstairs bedroom. Which could have easily been a hotel room that hasn’t seen many customers since the 70’s. Jenny filled up the room. Door shut, small window, painting of the virgin mother and a gold bedspread were the tools she needed to start to purrr. It was a crazy difference between the girl I had an hour earlier and the one kneeling on the bed right then. The photographs taken in this small bedroom helped Jenny’s rock star start to pour out. Who knew that when we were ten and dreaming about being rockstars, we’d shoot what could be the album cover almost twenty years later?