Siena Takes Rome, pt. 4

Here’s the link to the images:
 

https://drive.google.com/open?id=1ubFwnhwMzlTcdSqLj9brNJhGyJP-nPKH
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SIENA TAKES ROME

I know many people have been waiting for a set of Sienna Hutton. And I’m finally able to share them with you all.

As most people who have been following this account since summer know, my trip across Italy was a whirlwind. Not only did I shoot with models in four major cities in that country, but I also was taking my mom (who is going blind) and aunt, so the trip definitely wasn’t a pleasure cruise. I was working hard, trying to keep everyone happy and having a good time, and pushing myself physically in the heat in foreign environments. I still can’t complain, because I was in ITALY!!! But yes, it wasn’t all fun and games, for sure.

By the time I drove our rental car into Rome, we had been exploring Italy for about ten days, me and my family were starting to get on each other’s nerves a bit, and I was so exhausted from pushing myself that my body began to revolt. The first night in Rome my ankle began to swell to twice its size, inflamed from an infection I’d received from mosquitos, exacerbated by all the walking we’d been doing and clearly not resting. Thankfully, due to socialized medicine in Europe, I was able to hobble into a pharmacy and in their broken English the trained pharmacist examined my leg and prescribed me the right antibiotics. By the next day, my throbbing leg wasn’t as red and hot to the touch, but it was still sore and swollen.

This is the background to my mindset when I met Siena. I had found Siena on some model site, I don’t remember which, and her perky breasts and trim figure, along with her cherub face, had me sold on her. I couldn’t believe my luck! As it turned out while communicating with her via WhatsApp, she was actually from the west coast of Canada, and since I’d lived in Seattle for many years, we had similar experiences in common. She is the daughter of a distinguished archaeologist, and thus is an archeology student herself, hence why she is was living on the outskirts of Rome. She was currently on a dig, excavating some ancient city that predated Rome itself. Siena also spoke fluent Italian, reluctantly but eventually agreed to shoot nudes, and was definitely an experienced model.

The day after we arrived in Rome, I arranged to shoot with her. By the afternoon, my leg had calmed down enough to be able to walk somewhat normally. I was rearranging the furniture in our Airbnb for the kinds of images I wanted and told my mom and aunt that they had to go for a walk for an hour or two to give us some privacy. I had booked this Airbnb specifically for its appearance, knowing I’d get some great images in it, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Siena was running late due to stereo typically bad Rome traffic in the evening, causing her bus to be late. Still, she showed up eager to shoot, friendly and open. But I was also a bit surprised. In her photos online she had large, perky breasts and no tattoos. The moment she took her clothes off, she revealed that she had tattoos on her right side from her thigh all the way up almost to her navel. And it’s not like the tattoos were elegant and subtle, they were a muddy mixture of blues and black and other colors in weird swirls that easily distracted the eye. I was slightly frustrated.

But also, her breasts were cut up. Literally. She had only recently had a breast reduction, which she hadn’t mentioned to me AT ALL. I’d seen many breast reduction scars in the past, with clean, even lines cut around the under-curve of the breast and a small incision up the middle to the nipple. Either hers were too freshly done or done poorly, but it looked like she had been eviscerated. The scars were still fresh and red and sensitive, and her once curvy breasts seemed stunned and deflated. I felt lied to, and since I could see she was self-conscious about them, I tried not to show I was bothered. This upset me especially because I had agreed to pay her, which is something I rarely ever do. But now, what was I paying for? A model that, if I had known about the tattoos and scars, I never would have wanted to work with for free, let alone pay for.

Her excuse for the breast reduction, at least to me at the time, was not about her health in any way because they hadn’t been huge, it was because she wanted to book more high fashion runway work and it helped having smaller breasts for that. I was confused to say the least, but since I wasn’t feeling well, could barely walk, was under a time crunch since my family would be back soon, and with Siena saying she had plans as soon as we were done, there was no time for hesitation. 

She put on the clothes I had set aside for her and we began, using the light from the windows I knew would be glorious, having her slowly tease her skin. II knew I’d have to literally reconstruct her breast shape in Photoshop, something I hate doing these days, as well as erase all the scars, but I continued to shoot whatever I could. “I’ll fix it in post,” I told myself, even though I hate when others say that. In the folder, you should be able to see the difference between the raw images and the retouched versions. Go see and let me know what you think.

But for all my frustrations, she was also adorable. She was open and honest, discussed her polyamorous lifestyle, her love of all things Italian, and her own frustrations traveling back and forth, dealing with worker visas, etc. Her “boyfriend,” who she said she was in an open relationship with, was coming to visit soon, so she was happy about that. (A few weeks later I saw online that they had gotten engaged soon after our shoot.)

We shot in the living room, around the blue sofa I had slept on the night before, then we went and shot in the master bedroom, where my mom was sleeping. I had to move all my mom’s luggage, clear off her cosmetics and lotions off the dressers, and make the room look presentable for photos, all while hobbling with my damn inflamed leg, which was getting worse the more I stood on it.

Still, it would have been hard to screw up the shoot otherwise. Her face was flawless, she was a natural beauty and talented model, and the location was out of sight. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, and even my most basic, default approaches to “phoning it in” looked pretty damn good, if I do say so myself.

We shot for a little over an hour, then I told her she could go. My leg was throbbing and I felt exhausted, dripping buckets of sweat from both the Italian summer heat and my infection. I helped her pack up her things, took a few selfies, then she happily hopped on a bus to go out to dinner and drinks with friends. Once she was gone, I poured myself a very cold glass of water and sat reviewing the images, hating most of them as I often do after a shoot. Moments later my mom and aunt returned, sweaty and happy, having just had the kind of gelato experience you fly all the way to Italy for.

I had enough images to make two photo sets, I will post the other next week.

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 What did you think of Siena? How would you have done in that situation? Please let me know! You can always send me your feedback, positive or negative! And thank you as always for your continued support, it means the world to me!
 

Here’s that link again:

https://drive.google.com/open?id=1ubFwnhwMzlTcdSqLj9brNJhGyJP-nPKH