There's no business like...

Fini is currently doing a course in film makeup and has to find willing models to work on and photograph. There's a queue to become princesses, 50s movie starlets, etc. but unfortunately she begins on creating injured and dead people. Next week it's death by freezing.

But this week she needed someone to be homeless. As the only man present I chivalrously agreed to this extreme makeover. For payment I got a packet of M&Ms, which even a real down-and-out wouldn't sniff at...

I've never had makeup applied before (shocking, I know) and Fini was as professional as it gets. Brushes flew like lightning, colours were mixed and daubed on, raisins were glued to me, latex applied and stretched. She was amazing. She was even kind enough to remove all the gunk from my face afterwards (but I did get to keep a bruise on my arm).



The tools of the trade.



The master at work.



Gorgeous.

Then it was out to the nearby bins for a photoshoot. I was worried I might get arrested, but in Berkeley who notices another homeless ex-hippie? I even had a broken umbrella and a cigarette to help me get more into character.



Stylish.



Spare any change?



Give us a kiss, birthday girl!



Me and the master. She's going to thank me in her Oscar acceptance speech.