Admitting to oneself one’s true desire can be tinged with fear. For me, fashion photography was such a desire that I could no longer ignore.
A little over a year ago, I was compelled to shoot at London Fashion Week. The urge grew irrefutably stronger throughout the day, and despite having no fashion photography or street stye experience, I headed to Soho.
The winter sun unusually gleaming that February afternoon, I entered Brewer Street knowing I needed to engage with my subject. A departure from the silence of street photography, I was comforted knowing the fashionable like to be photographed. Still, the need to ask, “may I take your photo?” was daunting. After several hours a rhythm developed as I shot models, stylists, bloggers and blaggers. I felt uplifted.
Ramario Chevoy was the second person I shot that afternoon.
Back then, my life had arrived at an unimaginable juncture. I questioned my existence daily. The choices I made, the brevity and the supposed preciousness of life were all contradicted by my mode of living; funded by a career I did not implicitly chose; a consequence of a failed medical degree undertaken with hubris.
Eventually, I could not lie to myself that I was happy. My depression relapsed. I was unable to care for myself. My family less so. Every aspect of my life had to go on hold. All except photography. Photography provided a lifeline.
A change was necessary, but really I was snapping my shutter in the dark. I would go on day long shoots. Wandering the streets of London without food or water. Sharpening my eye for street photography sustained me. I would leave my wife by herself to look after our new born daughter, while I searched for a voice to express.
Shooting buildings quickly became banal. Alone with my camera over the cold winter months, what emerged was the compulsion to shoot people and candid portraiture. I learned to be a ghost and silently I drifted through crowds looking for human interactions to photograph. To capture and collect with only my thoughts as a guide.
I would be shocked and jolted by a subject clocking my intensions. Occasional shouts and challenges would come my way, and eventually, I developed a tougher exterior to these criticism. Really though, I was met with positivity, and at worst, indifference. I learnt to exist as a street photographer, a part of my life worth cultivating illuminated and with each photo a greater path cleared.
Attending LFW suddenly became an irrefutably logical progression. I came home and immediately edited my pictures and began posting on my Instagram feed. I tagged Ramario into the picture and he responded positively.
I suggested meeting up for a shoot the next day, and to my surprise, he agreed. Completely complementary, Ramario encouraged me to make more of my secret dream.
Months later, as I began to recover my life, I started to reimagine what my future would look like. I readopted long ago abandoned ideas; I began writing again. The voice I use today, years before was dismissed in favour of a medical pipe dream. I wrote with abandon and enrolled onto a journalism masters.
Since that day, I have photographed Ramario at LFW whenever we have been present together. And with a growing portfolio, the fantasy of shooting fashion photography is slowly becoming a reality.
Ramario Chevoy is a dancer and an agency represented model at VauHaus.