A lesson I learned, whilst working as a press photographer. As you literally never know what is going to happen in between planned jobs. News is an ever moving entity.
I had decided to inject a bit of femininity into my style, I had looked in the diary and the jobs were all inside, including an art exhibition. So I picked out a dress and some leggings and patent leather kitten heels that I’d bought on a whim. I was feeling good, a change from my usual casual trousers and boots.
That feeling soon disappeared, when I got a call as I was finishing up at a job. There had been a murder I needed to get back to the office to pick up the reporter and head over to the scene. As I drove over my mind raced, it could be anywhere, inside a house, a remote location. Once I had collected the reporter, we headed over to the area. It was down a dirty muddy alleyway. I looked down at my shoes and cursed myself, especially as I hadn’t thought to put a pair of boots in my car as a backup.
I must admit I did forget about my shoes as I squelched along the ground, looking at the police tape and floral tributes. Someone’s life was lost and I was worrying about my shoes getting dirty. I said a little prayer to myself and got on with taking photographs, whilst the reporter spoke to the police and people who had started to gather. I always feel conspicuous standing there taking pictures of murder scenes, however I know I won’t be the only one doing it. It is after all in the public eye.
So even though high heels and murder scenes don’t mix, I know there are bigger things to worry about, having said that, I always have a spare pair of boots in the car now.
