If you had boxes of precious threads for a Queen’s private viewing staring back at you, some time to kill, and a few wicked pieces which didn’t make make their flight to Hollywood, what would you do? Follow photographer Candy Kennedy’s lead. With a decent sense of humour and some heavy persuasion for a loan of the threads, Kennedy and her peeps found themselves in a fat-kid-’n-cake-like-heaven. Kennedy’s humble abode was instantly transformed into a nightclub-creative-engineering dream; kitchen became makeup studio, stairs were for styling, TV room for final touches, and lounge room for the big shoot of a Bohemian Rhapsody.
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