Boiler Room Noir
Color me happy, but this Thursday I finally had the time, the energy and the chemical-induced optimism required for a full night at Valmoor. And not just any Valmoor either. This was a double-length session, extended sets, the full Boiler Room treatment. An evening where you already feel excited while still halfway through your eyeliner.
Unfortunately, for reasons mostly involving poor planning and worse decisions, I arrived home far later than intended and immediately entered a complete wardrobe crisis. Yes, I had called ahead and asked Tamsyn to prepare something for me, but when I walked in I found her unconscious on the couch between two naked men who also appeared to have given her all they had in them. I sometimes think people would love working as my assistant, but Tamsyn continues to interpret the role very differently.
Anyway, I did not have time for management discussions and quickly walked into my closet. The new shirt obviously had to be worn. I combined it with several items that hopefully did not too aggressively communicate “yes this has already been photographed before,” threw myself into the already waiting Uber and headed for the Boiler Room.
I entered the place in excellent spirits. Nodded at Opie, who immediately dispatched one of her girls to fetch several of my favorite opiates, greeted people left and right and fully settled into what became an absolutely fantastic night.
The only problem, as I discovered much later while I woke up this morning, was that in my rush I had grabbed my black-and-white camera. So now Valmoor looks like an extremely stylish European industrial documentary from 1967.
Click them for a larger resolution and save.
This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
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