The art director at the magazine I work at was on leave because his wife just had a baby. So I had to pick up the art director duties in his absence. This was kind of exciting because I got to design my very first cover.
Unfortunately, the cover artist was fugly.
The photo shoot took place on some island off the coast of Spain, so I'm sure there was plenty of partying to be had. When the photos came in, they were all ...how should I put it? ...NOT cover-worthy.
For some reason the shoot was at some old run-down mission and everything looked all rocky and craggy. And that was just the DJ's face. The landscape was pretty rough-looking to match.
The DJ himself wasn't even dressed for a cover shoot. That is, unless Germans think being on the cover of an American magazine means you have to look like a redneck with your hair in a mullet, a sleeveless muscle-T, cargo shorts, and flip-flops. I'm sure he just wanted to pose against a few rocks for an hour and then go back to chasin' rave tail.
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