Island Bikini

Author: islandbikini_6flmjz

  • Donna

    Donna, November 1986. Nikon FM2. Kodak T-Max 400.
    My first “pretty girl” photo. She reminded me of Cybill Shepherd, and I couldn’t believe she said yes.

    This wasn’t a bikini shoot, but it might’ve been where everything really started.

    Donna Bullard was the first model I ever worked with who felt like she belonged on the pages of something. I remember thinking, She looks like Cybill Shepherd.

    We shot in a makeshift studio — just a wall, a blanket, and a borrowed strobe. I had no idea what I was doing, but she made it easy.

    I look back at this frame and still can’t believe I took it.

  • The Filter Phase

    Tanya, poolside. TMX 100 and a heavy softening filter — I’d just discovered what filters could do, and I went for it.

    This was the phase where I thought every shot needed a “look.”

    I’d just picked up a softening mist filter and figured it made things feel more editorial. I didn’t understand restraint yet — just that I liked the haze.

    Pretty sure it was TMX 100 again. Same old flash, same guesswork.

    Tanya showed up and let me try things. Most of the time I wasn’t sure what I was after — but we figured it out as we went.

  • The Fountain Shot

    Ashley Breed. Late ’80s. Somewhere near Alta Arden and Bell, back when the Jaguar dealership was still around. Yashica 635, Kodak TMX 100.

    I was still figuring it out.

    Everything I shot back then was copied — poses, lighting, attitude. I saw someone pull down sunglasses in a magazine ad and thought, yeah, that looks cool, so I asked Ashley to do it.

    I’m pretty sure this was taken with my Yashica 635, and I used TMX 100 film—no light meter. No bounce. Just on-camera flash and whatever the sun was doing behind me. Even my horizon was crooked!

    We were standing in a public fountain on a random afternoon. No permits, no plan. Just an idea and a roll of film.

  • The First One

    Sacramento River, late ’80s. Kodak TMX 100. Maybe a Bronica. Maybe the start of something.

     

    We didn’t call it a shoot. We just wanted to make something before the light was gone.

    It wasn’t posed. It wasn’t planned.

    There’s a reflector sneaking in from the edge — we left it in.

    I don’t remember the camera. Just that it wasn’t mine.

    But I remember the moment. That counts for more.