Mickey was singing in a band the first time I shot her, and I described her as a femme fatale, noir and dangerously chic, carrying real confidence and presence with her.
Sharp as a tack and able to command a room without trying.
It wasn't until later I discovered she was a talented photographer. I've only shot with Mickey once, but I'm incredibly grateful that she helped me out on short notice.
Working alongside her was a privilege, and whenever I can, I love talking photography with her.
I've always had this thing about "Short Skirt/Long Jacket" by Cake. It's a fan favorite, maybe a bit novel, but still stands as memorable. Those lyrics are whimsical, smart, visually evocative, exactly my kind of songwriting. The way it describes someone "With fingernails that shine like justice and a voice that is dark like tinted glass"? C'mon. Those lyrics do a far better job describing Mickey than I ever could, so let's go there.
That night I tracked her cool and fluid movements as she worked the pit and captured Em Grace & the Undercuts. Then they covered a Cake song.
The song. Right there. Right then.
That's when it hit me: she was wearing a short skirt and a long jacket. Actually wearing them. The coincidence alone made me smile and lower my camera, but it went deeper.
I wondered if she realized she'd become, for me at least, an embodiment of this song I'd loved for so long. When she started singing along, and the crowd erupted in recognition, I could barely keep shooting. I just wanted to stop, to listen, to watch this impossible confluence of moments play out. In my mind, the band was singing about her. About the woman in the photo pit embodying everything that song celebrates.
I'm still not sure if she was aware of it. But I'll never hear that song the same way again.