Jezebel rehashes two time Terry Richardson model Jamie Peck’s unsavory encounter and how it went about, in a blur of gross, from Richardson asking for her tampon-in-use to make tea with to his assistants handing her a towel to wipe her hand.
Peck was 19 at the time and dumbfounded by the photographer’s mad glee and assistants’ cheering, hence the hand job, she claims. But consider all the well-publicised red flags, the horror/whore-r stories emulating from this guy’s notoriety, the Peck-described “hipster pedophile costume” and the quote on making it: “It’s not who you know, it’s who you blow. I don’t have a hole in my jeans for nothing.” Consider all that, before you decide whether dealing with Terry “Call Me Uncle” Richardson is worth playing model, or face a general lack of pity later.
Richardson never responded to Peck’s article. Richardson posted a picture of his mother proudly holding his hardcover, which instead of diluting his ill repute bogs him further down into ick. |Jezebel|
UPDATE: Terry Richardson recently responded to numerous allegations about being a perv and says he’s really hurt. As more editorials come in, they reveal a habit of mutual unprofessionalism or “fun,” as he calls it.
I just want to take a moment to say I’m really hurt by the recent and false allegations of insensitivity and misconduct. I feel fortunate to work with so many extraordinary people each and every day. I’ve always been considerate and respectful of the people I photograph and I view what I do as a real collaboration between myself and the people in front of the camera. To everyone who has embraced and supported me and my work, I am so grateful. Thank you, it means a lot.
The whole modeling business and fame culture is pretty sleazy to begin with, otherwise Richardson wouldn’t have been able to externalize his skeeviness and convince an entourage of assistants, a herd of fans and the never ending supply of aspiring models/histronic personalities that it was as cool on a piece of photo paper as it is in his head.
Ok, so while it’s reasonable that models could be offended by his lack of professionalism, it’s also possible that a “vain girl with nice tits who likes to pose for the occasional cheesecake photo” can take some creative license in recalling her brush with Terry-fame, as sticky as it was.
Another model pointed out the obvious: The eagerness was usually not one-sided.
Being familiar with Mr. Richardson’s…..peccadillos, many of the models were eager to please; pleasing in this instance consisted primarily of pulling down pants, pulling up skirts, losing blouses, and a bit of finger sucking thrown in for good measure. It seemed painfully clear to me that the phantom lure of a cover try was sufficient reason for a handful of young women with waning career prospects to humiliate themselves in front of each other while Terry Richardson giggled, panted, said “That’s hot,” and pushed them further.
Perhaps a more balanced verdict would be that the whole enterprise is [subjectively] a perv-fest, and by this point, if you’re jumping in on it, surprised is the last emotion you can claim. Partially titillated, grossed out, sorely offended — sure. But not surprised.