Madonna, David Bowie, Elizabeth II and me — this is what it’s like to have your photograph taken by Rankin

Madonna, David Bowie, Kate Moss and Elizabeth II. It’s not easy to add your name to a list like that and yet I have. They have had their portrait taken by Rankin — and on a recent Thursday, I joined the club.

Perhaps our generation’s most famous photographer, Rankin has captured just about every recognisable face in recent history. The Glasgow-born creative is also a director, both of short films and music videos for the likes of Cheryl Cole and Rita Ora. He has exhibited at The Museum of Modern Art in New York and the V&A Museum and 180 Studios in London, and created content for brands such as Hugo Boss, Coca-Cola and Rolls-Royce, as well Women’s Aid, the NHS and Amnesty International.

But that is not where his talents end. Rankin is also a book and magazine publisher — he co-founded the magazine Dazed & Confused (now just Dazed) in 1991 and Hunger magazine in 2011. His photographs, which the London Evening Standard once described as ‘high-gloss, highly-sexed and hyper-perfect’ have appeared on the front cover of not only his own magazines, but almost every glossy worth reading: Vogue, Elle, Harper’s Bazaar, Rolling Stone, Vanity Fair and GQ. His photography hasn’t appeared in Country Life — until now.

In 2009 he held an exhibition titled Rankin Live on London’s Brick Lane where he photographed more than 1,800 ordinary people, one every 15 minutes; he is undertaking a similar feat this December. At £500 for a 20-minute slot, I wanted to know what it was like to be the subject of the photographer's lens, and if it was worth it.

I was a little nervous when I set out for his photography studio in Kentish Town. Rankin’s team had told me to not get my hair and makeup professionally done (despite my editor’s numerous reminders that I would be able to expense this) but to turn up dressed and looking like I normally would. Obviously, I ignored this advice, agonising for hours over what to wear (jeans and a nice top) and applying my makeup much more thoroughly than usual. I also booked an emergency haircut the day before — something I would not recommend, because it made me very self conscious. Like getting a haircut the day before your wedding.

Upbeat disco music blared from another room when Flo (Country Life’s Social Media Editor) and I arrived at the studio. Rankin was still shooting someone, so we waited in reception. As I surveyed our undeniably trendy surroundings, the likes of Matt Smith and Jason Isaacs loomed down at us from previous covers of Hunger, chiseled and perfect. I nervously played with my fringe, convincing myself that the hairdresser had definitely cut it too short. One photo on the cover of a book caught my eye: a black-and-white shot of a topless woman with the words ‘f*ck y*u’ written across her breasts, except the ‘u’ and the ‘o’ were asterisked, to cover her nipples. She stared back at me, sexy and defiant, the master of her own body. Flo had seen it too and we caught one another's eye. She made a face that said ‘rather you than me’. I was starting to wonder what I had gotten myself in for.

I don’t like having my photo taken. I will often pull a funny face or stick out an arm or leg to avoid being taken ‘too seriously’. I feared this tactic might not work on Rankin. As we sat on the sofa and waited for my turn, I began to wonder what he might be like. Extravagant and bombastic? Straight-talking and serious? Moody and reserved? 15 minutes passed, then 30, then 45. The answer was simply: late. Then, just before an hour had passed, he appeared. He was nothing like I had imagined.

With piercing blue eyes and soft-looking grey hair, he carried a sense of being probing yet gentle. Dressed all in black, in true photographer style, with shiny shoes complete with gold detailing, he wasn’t as I had thought he might be — overly trendy or fashionable — but just an ordinary looking guy in his late 50s. Albeit with slightly more expensive-looking clothes. He greeted us warmly, apologising for the wait. He had just been shooting the actor Sean Bean, he explained.

Rankin, it turns out, is a massive Lord of The Rings fan, and an even bigger fan of Sharpe, a TV drama which ran from 1993-2008 in which Bean plays a fictional British soldier in the Napoleonic Wars. ‘I was definitely star struck,’ he admitted, as he led us into the studio,’ which made me immediately relaxed. It was much harder to find Rankin quite so intimidating and impressive once I knew he was a) significantly nerdy and b) just as much of a superfan of celebrities as the rest of us.

As he set up for the shoot, Rankin’s team scurried around, fetching a block for me to lean against, lighting equipment and — I had to stifle my laughter at the ridiculousness of it all — a Beyoncé-music-video-style wind machine. In the meantime, we got to chatting. It was before Halloween when we met and I asked Rankin if he had any plans. The model Heidi Klum is a close personal friend and Rankin and his wife, Tuuli Shipster, had just returned from Heidi’s Oktoberfest party. She had invited the pair to her annual headline-making Halloween party, made famous by the model’s outrageous costumes, ‘But,’ says Rankin with the air of a man that has attended ‘Heidiween’ many times before, ‘I really don't want to go to New York and have to go through border control, because at the moment it's really crazy. I went a few months ago and it took about three hours to get through.’

Head still reeling from trying to process the prospect of not only getting an invite to Heidi’s iconic party, but turning it down, it was time for the shoot. Rankin walked me over to a white block in the middle of the room and showed me how to pose, my arms folded in front of me. Lights were adjusted and tweaked, and then we began. ‘Lay your head on your hand,’ he instructed me as he snapped away. ‘More wind, please,’ he asked his team. ‘Lean forward, please. Further.’ The sounds of the camera’s shutter clicking like muffled gunfire in this windy studio.

‘What kind of music would you like?’ Rankin asked, presumably sensing the awkwardness. I had prepared for this question in advance, pre-choosing two tracks that I thought would make me feel confident (‘Rio’ by Duran Duran and Jamiroquai’s ‘Cosmic Girl’). However, flustered by all the attention I answered instead: ‘I don’t mind. You choose.’ Confidently, and with no sense that this was at all bizarre, Rankin replied: ‘I’ll play you some of my AI music’. (I later discovered that this is one of the photographer's favourite hobbies, making songs using an AI software for his friends, family and — from the non-plussed look on the faces of the others in the room with us — colleagues. He later made a personalised track for Flo and insisted we stand together and listen to it before we left. It was Dolly Parton inspired.) I told him later that my first choice was Duran Duran or Jamiroquai. ‘Ah, Jay Kay,’ he said, nostalgically. ‘He was actually one of the people that made me realize that you should never judge anyone before you meet them. Because I was really judgmental of him, but then I met him, and I loved him. I thought he was one of the funniest, most charming, coolest people ever.’ It quickly becomes clear that there isn’t anyone Rankin hasn’t met.

The shoot continued and the instructions came thick and fast. ‘Stop tucking your hair behind your ears,’ Rankin said. ‘You always do that.’ I hadn’t even noticed it was a habit. Hundreds — or so it felt like — of photos of my face flashed up on the screen behind him. Then he stopped. ‘Check with Ollie and tell him yes or no,’ he told me, as he went off in search of a coffee.

Ollie, one of his assistants, looked at me then proceeded, in the most humiliating of rituals, to click through what felt like thousands of photos of my own face. ‘Yes. Erm no, I mean yes,’ I stuttered self consciously. ‘That one’s awful,’ I exclaimed, unaware that Rankin had returned, as a photo where my nose appeared looking bigger than Jupiter flashed up on the screen. Noticing that he was back I added, ‘My nose, I mean. Your photograph is lovely.’

Back for a second round, and buzzed up on caffeine and his AI beats, this time Rankin requested I try a new pose. Dragging over a chair he turned it back to front and asked me to sit on it. I perched on the side, tentatively. ‘No,’ he said, looking me in the eye, ‘I would like you to straddle it.’ I imagine what he was envisaging was something akin to a Britney Spears music video yet, sadly I swung my leg over with all the sex appeal and pizazz of a geriatric sloth.

For my next pose he asked that I flip him the bird. ‘This isn’t very Country Life,’ I said. ‘These photos aren’t just for Country Life, they’re for you,’ he replied. I privately thought that the pose wasn’t very me either, but complied, keen to experience the scale of being a model for Rankin. Next he demanded a ‘no photos please’ pose. ‘It’s very me,’ he added. I raised my hand to the camera as if blocking a paparazzi shot, something that happens to me all the time.

The final pose proved challenging. As the wind machine blew and the lights shone brightly on my face, Rankin requested that I lean over the back of a chair and rest my chin upon my hands. ‘Now — scream!’ he instructed, passionately. A pause followed, then a timid squeak, followed by a series of nervous giggles. I had begun to sweat and could feel the top that I had so carefully chosen that morning begin to stick to my skin. Rankin gave me a look that said, ‘Was that it?’. ‘Come on,’ he coaxed. ‘Really scream.’ ‘Ahhh,’ I complied, before bursting into a belly laugh. ‘Yes. Again,’ he said. ‘AHHHHHH!’ I screamed back at him. We returned to the computer to look over the shots. This time it was easier, I had started to feel more confident. ‘Yes. No. No. Yes. Maybe,’ I chanted. ‘I love that one,’ said Rankin, singling one out and cropping it. ‘Super cute!’ he said, when I gave him a questioning look in response.

Before I knew it, it was over. We picked three shots in the end. One of the ‘paparrazi’ poses, one shot of me gazing so moodily into the camera that I hardly recognised myself (‘Ideal for a dating profile,’ Rankin had said) and one of me, teeth bared, laughter beginning to bubble up and hair-blowing in the wind, screaming. As ridiculous as I felt doing it, I liked this photo the most. Scratch that. I loved it.

As much as it is painful, particularly as a woman, to look at your own likeness again and again, Rankin’s photo made me look powerful, beautiful and playful. They captured exactly what I wanted from the experience. Rankin had asked me at the start of the process what I wanted the photos to look like. ‘I want them to look like me,’ I replied, meaning not that I wanted him to simply capture how I looked, but my personality. And they do. Perfectly.

For more information on Rankin Live and how to book, visit Rankin's website.