Her Name Ain't Baby. It's Daisy, Ms. Fuentes If You're Nasty.
John Prine had it right, as always.
One sweltering August afternoon I was shooting in MTV’s studio at 1515 Broadway in Times Square. I loved going up there because there was always something fun afoot. Notoriously cheap, the network seemingly didn’t want to pay for separate studio space for the various shows so they just shot them all together in one big rollicking studio. A “factory” if you will. You would bump elbows (literally) with VJs or the MTV News people, they were all there hanging out. This time I was photographing Doctor Dré and Ed Lover. This Doctor Dré is an entirely different person than the giant rap star and producer Dr. Dre. The MTV Dré was half of a duo with Ed Lover. They hosted the network’s fledgeling attempt to integrate hip hop and people of color into the previously lily-white format, Yo! MTV Raps. After a while they figured it out well enough for Chris Rock to be able to joke about Eminem, “The best rapper is a white guy…” but MTV’s early moves were to create little shows like Yo! MTV Raps! to gradually introduce middle America to more diverse programming.
Those two guys were working the hilarious clown angle. Keeping them contained in one frame was the trick, and required much of my concentration. We were shooting in a tight little setup enveloped by the two overly huge softboxes I had made my poor assistants set up. There were two loudmouths performing for the media, me and my clanky Mamiya, surrounded by giant flashing strobe lights: a tiny maelstrom in the overall frenzied activity of a TV set filming multiple shows. A nuclear explosion would be required to distract me from my work.
And then in a heartbeat, boom. My eye was down on my camera, and I wondered why these two had shut up and were staring gape mouthed off set. Dré and Lover had snapped to attention like dogs sniffing a stew. I didn’t even have to follow their gaze to detect it as well: charisma. Cutting through the chaos, a woman was striding, well, no floating is a better description, a woman was floating along having entered moments before. All eyes were upon her, though she appeared not to notice as she chatted with her assistant. Did she move like Jagger? Better. Was she traveling in slow motion? Looked like it to me, time just stood still. She must have had a wind machine with her, would you look at her hair? In a studio full of bustling activity and people paid for the attractiveness, just heading to work she drew every eye, stopped every conversation. It was absolutely extraordinary and must have lasted only a moment before it all came crashing back, hubbub returned and we all took a breath.
“Who is THAT?” I managed to sputter to my new VJ pals.
“Oh, yeah, right?” unhelpfully offered Dré.
“Daisy Fuentes,” suggested Ed Lover, in the aural equivalent of the slow motion visuals we’d all just witnessed, “she’s the new VJ. She’s also on MTV Latin America.” Ed, Dré and I weren’t even the first people to be smitten by the Fuentes charisma. Daisy had just signed as a lead Revlon model and her career was taking off. I didn’t even meet her and was smitten. People that have that charisma just glow with it and Daisy Fuentes had more than anyone I’ve ever met.
I worked with her on several occasions and she was delightful and fabulous every time. So far out of my league as to be playing a different sport, she was nonetheless charming and delightful and each time I worked with her she fondly reminded me of the last time. John Prine has a great line, “The wind was blowing, especially through her hair.” That’s Daisy. Men routinely go all weak-kneed and tongue-tied like my Yo! MTV Raps buddies, but women seem to relate to her as well. Hence the Revlon gig, too many film and TV gigs to count, and her many fashion ventures. Fuentes’ fashion line generates three hundred million dollars a year for Kohl’s. She did pretty good, our Daisy. We worked together enough that I got invited to bid on a swimsuit calendar she produced. Somebody who shot that sort of thing got the gig, but it did provide clarity on what my dream photo gig would be.
But back when I knew her I could be confident that she would bring her A-game, every time. She would focus that great charisma to whatever the day’s project was. Even running into her in the elevator, before hair and makeup, she glowed from within. We never failed to create some spectacular portraits together and I was always grateful for the opportunity. She was the greatest, just an absolute glass of champagne. And she always brought that breeze with her, the one particularly through her hair.