About 15 years ago, when I was doing a weekly commentary on a local Los Angeles public radio station, the management hired a professional photographer to take some publicity shots. They remain among the worst photographs ever taken of me, and they also remain among the first results that pop up after you Google my name.
Please don’t, though. They’re really awful.
They look like snapshots taken very early in the morning after a late night of drinking an ill-advised assortment of cocktails and eating fistfuls of salty snacks. Of course, there’s a perfectly good reason why they turned out that way, and I wish I could say it’s because the photographer was lousy. Unfortunately, there was only so much he could do with the splotchy, bloated face that showed up that morning, and I take full responsibility for the results. I only wish they weren’t just a click away.
That was, as I said, 15 years ago. But it was also, crucially, 20 pounds ago, and I have spent the past few years trying to get a really good, professionally done photograph of myself — what we in the trade call a headshot — to upload to a million places and swamp the old puffy one and shove it down the list, onto page two of the Google search results.
Last week, out to dinner with some friends — including my old friend Sean, who is a talented and sought-after professional fashion and travel photographer — there was just the right warm candlelight, and I was wearing just the right oh-this?-this-is-just-what-I-threw-on outfit, and Sean was inspired to snap a few iPhone images of me looking younger and skinnier than I am, which is the goal of every person who has ever had their photograph taken and don’t bother to deny that applies to you, too, because none of the rest of us are buying it.
I thought they turned out really well. But because I’m still suffering from the PTSD of the public radio photo shoot, I quickly sent the best one to a few friends of mine for feedback. What do u think of this pic? Hot or not? is what I texted. And a few minutes later, I got the responses.
What’s with the weird hair? Asked one friend, who noticed that my hair was sticking up a bit in what I thought was a casual and mildly rakish way.
It’s called tousled, I texted back. And it’s actually considered cool.
Srsly? Was the response. It looks a little like you’re wearing a teeny tiny nurse’s hat.
But before I could fire back, another friend rang in.
Pretty good likeness, she texted, which AI did you use?
It’s not AI, I said. It’s me. I’m thinking of using it for publicity stuff. What do u think?
A long pause. The three dots, indicating that the other person is composing a response, kept blinking on and off. Then, finally:
Well then it’s weird. I wouldn’t use it. The skin tone is off and your smile is creepy and your forehead is enormous and your jawline looks like you fixed it.
What do you mean my jawline looks like I fixed it. Why would I need to fix it?
Another long pause.
Look, she replied, none of us are getting any younger.
The rest of my headshot council rang in with various forms of insult and personal attack. The general consensus was that the parts that looked like me were unflattering, and the parts that looked like AI were peculiar and off, and you just can’t fight everyone. That’s the problem with asking for advice: sometimes you get it good and hard.
Look, one of them texted a few minutes later, I know this is about that public radio shot which we all agree is awful. So why don’t you just pay the money and get good shots done by a photographer in a studio rather than asking your friends to take shots of you casually with the phone?
Which was the most stinging and hurtful response of all, because it was the most accurate. Because while it’s true that I hate that bloated, puffy-eyed headshot, the price sure was right. And I have discovered that though I am vain, I am also cheap. And those two things together will keep my public image fat and hungover for a long time.
Rob Long is a television writer and producer, including as a screenwriter and executive producer on Cheers, and the co-founder of Ricochet.com.
