You know those old shows where some love-lorn woman picks petals off a daisy and starts musing, 'I love him, I hate him, I love him, I hate him..' Okay, I don't really remember that either. But it is kind of how I'm feeling these days about photographer Terry Richardson. On the one hand, I am so incredibly effin' jealous of a dude who spends his days smoking cigs and hanging out waiting for some hot celebrity to come over to his hotel room to take off her clothes so he can start snapping away while sharing some cocktails with her, on the other hand, he does like to share the product of his lucky bastard work with all of us. This is so damn yin-yang!
What is completely not confusing is my lust for French model and oft-Richardson photo subject, Camille Rowe, who just loves to get nekkid and have her photo taken. How the world needs more girls with this attitude. Camille strips down to absolutely nothing in a series of outtakes that just beg you, really, seriously, I can hear them begging you, to ogle, leer, and inspect. Can you resist her pleas? Nay. Enjoy.