baby at the bar

My Staten Island-based childhood memories include faded images of maroon vinyl bar stools, my favorite minestrone soup, wooden bowls full of salty pretzels, and peanuts still in the shell. I don't know when the law changed in New York, but before it did it wasn't uncommon to see kids hanging out at a bar with their parents. These days that seems nearly unimaginable. Unless, of course, your parents own a bar (and then you can be there only when it is closed); Marli and Bart run The Fixin' To in St. Johns, and their smart and funny daughter, Emmylou, isn't yet old enough to realize how cool her parents are, or that she's the only kid in Portland who gets to eat bunny crackers off the bar of the F2.

Our session was the perfect mix of at-home and on-location, with the location being a perfectly authentic-to-them spot, and a new-to-me exciting adventure. I never thought I'd find myself chasing a baby around a bar on a Monday morning, but I quite enjoyed myself, and I love the results.

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xo, PQ