Carly and Trevor, Trash the Dress, St Helena Bay. Now you see, it’s fairly widely acknowledged that I feel rocks for a bride at her Trash the Dress. I’m not nasty. I’m just, cold, unemotional, slightly psychopathic and generally not in the mood for any excuses that come my way. You either do what I ask, or you do what I ask. Simple really. If you don’t do what I ask, well, I just give you more pain. It’s lovely. I enjoy it thoroughly. It’s a sort of payback time for putting me through another rendition of some ABBA tribute or 60’s medley on your wedding day. When it came to Carly’s Trash the Dress, I did warn her about just how cold that West Coast water can be. She didn’t flinch at the prospect. ‘I’m a surfer chick’ she said. ‘I’m used to cold water.’ Ja, ja, ja, ja – I’ve heard that one before only to have a bride or two of mine not actually speak to me after their Trash the Dress sessions. Then I have to pretend I feel sorry for them, but all I actually care about is getting back to have a look at the photos. Anyway, off Carly Trev and myself went on the Easter Weekend. It was an absolute pearler of a day with the light doing it’s best to change its hues every few angles. It was amaaaaaze-balls doll. But what made this shoot quite extraordinary wasn’t so much the fact that Carly took to the water with consummate ease while holidaymakers looked on in pure astonishment. Rather, it was the fact that she did all of this without even once wincing in pain thanks to a broken arm. As in a properly broken arm. She whipped off her cast, ran around the place, climbed over some seriously slippery rocks and just generally took St Helena Bay apart. All this while people were done the ‘well done’ and ‘congratulations’ and ‘you look awesome’ compliments. And then to top it all, she got onto a SUP and went for a paddle before downing a beer thanks to some mates of mine who were renting a house on the beachfront. Respect my Carl’s, respect.