Busying myself with providing tea, coffee, coke, crisps, hommous, carrots, cheese and pickle sandwiches – anything – to keep the stylist, model, hair person, makeup guy, lighting assistant, photographer and I full and warm on an evening fashion shoot on a bitingly cold winter’s day in the depths of 80s prefab east end London is… alright. The music blasts, beers swish things along nicely later and boredom is kept relatively under wraps – provided tea, tea and more tea is always on hand.
Busying myself with providing no help, lounging in the sun, reading my book, offering the odd enthusiastic coo, drinking chai from the chai-wallah, water from the water-wallah, dodging light boy number 13, flattering the oddly imperious assistant deputy hair person, eating fantastic biryani that sprang from the most humble of camp stoves, not touching a single piece of equipment in 48 hours, whilst all the time drinking more, ample and possibly too much chai in the balmy, pungent heat of a Mumbai afternoon, is, well…altogether more satisfactory.
And the fruits of all that labour?
Coming soon: an ode to tea, the universal panacea