When I called my sister to prepare another “outrageous” shoot - something else than sitting in an apple tree in glittery wedges or bothering cows in their stable in studded white(!) heels (stuff I usually do when in Bavaria) - she was all game.
I was actually half joking when I suggested conquering the local fireman station (secretly thinking of that SATC episode where Samantha...yeah, you know which one I mean...), but with the connections running as they do in a small village, everything was set in no time.
Not only did the two fireman requested show up, but the whole brigade including the “commandante” came to the rescue of two hot heels, and a squeaking woman (aka moi) who was mainly concerned with not flashing anything else than her red soles (iPhones and a very short skirt plus ten guys...a very tricky combination!).
Details, details, I say, and would immediately call 112 whenever in need of some manly dudes to come to my rescue. Just don’t you dare sprinkle any water on my precious italian laser cut leather!