I brought the baby monitor that I used when Bonnie was tiny into my office, so I can watch her in bed and make sure the mouse isn’t crawling on her in her sleep. I have work to do. I read an email from Rebecca about a new retouching job.

The original photograph is of a young woman, an actress, apparently. Sara Jenkins. She had a baby last year and is posing naked to show off her ‘post-baby body’. Her post-baby body, in reality, isn’t great. There are stretch marks across her stomach, and a large red scar below her belly button. She has requested that I take away the stretch marks and the scar, thin her thighs, smooth her skin and give her a tan. All so she can lie to other women and make them feel like failures for not being perfect after the carnage of a C-section.

This woman, Sara Jenkins, is a fraud. I give her the tan she asked for and cover the scar. I move her belly button up, give her a more defined waist, smooth her bad complexion. I try to leave a few signs of motherhood, to keep it real. A natural crease above her pubic area, just poking out the top of her tiny briefs. A few dimples on her thighs. I fill them in and thin them down like Rebecca told me to, but I leave the pores visible. She isn’t made of plastic after all.

I send the finished image off to Rebecca. She replies in under ten minutes with more instructions.

The PR went mental at this. Lose the crease above her vag. Smooth the thighs more. Hurry, please. They were supposed to be in yesterday.

A few minutes later:

Oh, and sort her chin out. I had to give her whisky to make her relax. She didn’t want to get her kit off. FFS.

I do as I am paid to do and remove all signs of life. I am increasingly aware of the current culture, and how people are held accountable for terrible things they do or say on email or at work. I always try to write positive messages that exempt me from any future blacklisting or blame in this terrible world that I work in. My industry is under fire. A #MeToo equivalent is heading our way. I want to make sure I am not lampooned. I send the photos back with a note.

Here you go Rebecca, please find attached the retouched images. It’s a shame so much work was requested as I thought the originals were lovely. I’m not sure she needed the whisky. Is there a less intoxicating method you could use? Taking some time? Talking? Clothing?