I’d clicked instantly with one of the sweetest groups of humans I’ve ever worked with — Payable on Death (P.O.D.), a Christian rap/rock band out of San Diego. These guys had hearts of gold. They loved God, were still with their high school sweethearts (now wives), and somehow brought a little sunshine into every chaotic corner of the music business.
Styling them was easy at first.
Dickies. Black T-shirts. Done.
Until… the Satellite album shoot.
The photographer wanted full NASA astronaut suits for one shot.
Yes. Astronaut suits.
And yes… I delivered.
(If you’ve never seen four grown rockers try to cram into NASA suits, I highly recommend it for your next comedy night.)
After a string of photo shoots and a few Rolling Stone moments, it was time for the big music video: Alive.
The record label had loosened the purse strings, and they brought in Francis Lawrence — yes, that Francis Lawrence (The Hunger Games, I Am Legend, Red Sparrow). Back then it was his first music video with P.O.D., and he treated the project like high art.
When he found out I’d basically come with the band, he was cool about it — handed me the storyboards, the cast’s measurements, and a hefty budget.
The concept?
A 1970s teen love story.
Perfect. I was that ’70s kid.
I hit the thrift stores hard with my assistants, pulling together backyard BBQ and skateboard looks straight out of the summer of ’76. The hero piece: a perfect vintage ringer tee for our lead actor — who, of course, was covered in tattoos.
Not exactly a 1970s vibe.
So makeup covered them… and the sweat of a long day skating in an empty pool destroyed the shirt in hours.
Francis looked at me at wrap and said:
“I hope you have a couple extra. We’re starting with him in the morning.”
My heart dropped into my Vans.
Doubles?
This was a true vintage tee. There were no doubles.
Luckily, the shoot was in my hometown , Huntington Beach. I called my dad, explained my styling emergency, and without missing a beat he said:
“Just make copies.”
Simple enough in theory…
So I raced to Walmart for plain ringer tees, hit Kinko’s for iron-on transfer paper, copied the art work onto it, bleached the shirts within an inch of their lives in my dad’s garage sink, washed them, ironed on the graphics, and by dawn…
I showed up looking like the picture of calm.
Inside? I was running on caffeine, adrenaline, and exactly zero hours of sleep.
Here’s the truth: I didn’t “train” for this.
I didn’t have years of assisting under a senior stylist. I learned on the job, under pressure, with amazing artists who trusted me — and by figuring it out when the stakes were high.
It’s not glamorous in the moment.
But these are the jobs that teach you speed, creativity, resourcefulness… and how to turn a “we’re doomed” moment into a win.
Because sometimes, styling isn’t about pulling the perfect look from a showroom.
It’s about pulling it out of thin air.
— Suzie
We use cookies to analyze website traffic and optimize your website experience. By accepting our use of cookies, your data will be aggregated with all other user data.