For a little while when I was at university, I made some pocket money doing nude modelling for art classes. It was a job, like any other and I was grateful to be part of so many artists’ learning. I’d arrive at the studio, head to the dressing room and take off my clothes, throw a gown on, enter the studio and off would come the gown. I’d then do a series of languid poses for lightening quick hands to caress onto the page.
The scrutiny of an artist is unbelievable. They are all eyes and knowing. Invited to view their work following a class was the only uncomfortable thing about the experience. To see so many vivid interpretations of my body was confronting. I felt nude and free when I was sitting for the artists, naked and exposed when I viewed the end result.
Having your clothes off doesn’t make you naked, only other people can do that.
I was thinking about this yesterday when I passed a massive billboard of three girls in their undies. The girls were beaming from head to toe, all glistening brown skin, smooth and firm. I imagined an image of myself beaming along next to them, all white, runny flesh with corners and valleys and messiness.
Somehow I’ve become permanently naked in this world, so many of us have. Younger, thinner me felt worthy enough to disrobe in front of groups of people observing every little jiggle and sway. Older, fatter me doesn’t have to take her clothes off to feel inspected and rejected. We make a big deal when a woman ‘braves’ it all on the beach with her less-than-perfect figure, but secretly we are kinda just wishing she would cover up or leave. Imperfect bodies offend us deeply, even though we’ve probably got one of our own.
Scorn and jealousy collide when a fat chick shows off her body in a bikini. The scorn is the screeching sound of 10000 fit people being ‘concerned’ for her apparent lack of health when really they are judging her laziness and scornful that she somehow dares to be proud of something she hasn’t worked for. The jealousy is those exact same people wishing they didn’t give a shit either.
See, a fat chick is a political statement wearing a bikini. A skinny chick is just a girl.
Do you feel nude or naked?
More on this topic: body neutrality.
Kathy says
Great post Bron – I don’t know whether my younger self would have braved the art class experience. In some ways I’ve become more used to my body now and less worried about lumps and bumps than I was when I really didn’t have lumps and bumps! But I still feel naked in a vulnerable sense and I so get what you say about the offence taken at an older, fatter body. Right now I’m starting to feel invisible – I don’t know what is worse feeling exposed or invisible.
Maxabella says
I may well be operating in reverse to most, I think!
Leisa says
As is a body that is physically different because of a genetic condition (achondroplasia AKA dwarfism) like mine.
The older I get, the less shits I give…and choose to wear whatever the hell I want because it makes me feel good. 🙂
Maxabella says
Always love your attitude, Leisa. x
Robyna | the Mummy and the Minx says
I think I have become more comfortable in my skin with age – and I love it when women of all sizes feel happy in their swimmers. Size is such a small part of health in reality. It would be nice if we made less of a deal of it.
Maxabella says
I have and I haven’t. My body confidence has been picked away, yet I have less fucks to give about it.
Collette Beck says
Not sure if I agree. I wore a bikini for the first time in seven years and fit into neither of your categories – not fat chick, nor skinny chick. What I realised while I was ‘braving it’ on the beach, was that no one was looking at me. So for all the energy I wasted worrying about braving the beach in my bikini, or offending someone – no one really cares. Except for my husband – and he was giving me the ‘glad eye’ – which I was pretty happy about.
People actually care less than you think.I’d always worn a bikini, all my life. Then after my second child was born I wore a one-piece. I never liked it. After I had my third, I conceded and thought I’d never wear a bikini again. But all the extra curves and dimples aside, I’m much happier in a bikini, so it comes down to what you are comfortable in, no one else. Just you.
Maxabella says
I always love hearing stories like yours, Collette. x
Rach says
A topic close to my heart! I’ve copped terrible abuse in the local media here, along with other plus size girls, for daring to pose in my lingerie for a fundraising calendar. It was a strange experience doing the shoot, I felt surprisingly free. Even though our shoot was out on a public promontory -people were circling the site via the walking track with their families (should have felt more awkward!). I think being out there with other girls who all had jiggly bits, and also knowing it was for a good cause made all the difference. I was so delighted that when the trolls started making their comments, I could see their words, but they didn’t sting. Their opinions are ignorant and childish. I feel like I’ve come a long way in my own acceptance of this body. I like to think of all the things it can do for me, all the ways it has been a longsuffering companion of mine. My body and I are mates now. I’d go to bat for it any time.
It is so fortunate to have a body that functions.
I used to be one of those life-drawing students. I remember loving the lines of every single model we drew. It was a delight to try to capture bodies in a few strokes. Yes, artists see all. They even see beauty where young models see flaws. If only our young selves knew that those bodies we had did not make us, they only carried us.
Maxabella says
I do think that people’s attitudes to bodies says more about themselves than the body in question. I wrote a piece a while ago that I linked to in this post called “body neutrality’ that you might like, Rach: http://maxabellaloves.com.au/2015/06/body-neutrality.html
It’s one of the most searched for terms on my blog. x
Eliza says
I know what you mean. It is depressing. I think I feel worse in body now than I ever have, even though I’m roughly the same size. I don’t know why, and I hate that I feel that way and that I might be passing on body-hatred to my children.
On a tangent, I heard an idea on the radio about taking per-pubescent girls to the Korean (I think) baths . All body shapes and sizes, all in the nude, all confident. I want to do that with my daughter, but then maybe I need to do it for myself.
Maxabella says
I think it’s partly because our generation (and yours, I know I am much older than you!) finds it hard to accept aging. I think body consciousness is foolishly seen as part of being ‘young’. x
Emily @ Have A Laugh On Me says
As I age I get a lot less concerned about my shape and size but more concerned about my health and whether I’m treating my body the way it should be so I can live as long as I can with my children. I have friends that embrace their figures lumps bumps and all and I they may have had a different upbringing than I. I don’t even say the word fat in my house, I hate it. I will also not tolerate anyone putting themselves down in front of my children, as I know too well the effects this can have on them. Lovely post. I would love to have had the guts to pose back in my younger days, I’m more likely to do it now as my body confidence grows, along with my waistline!! xx
Sam Stone says
This is SO spot on Bron. Body image drives me crazy. I have a bad one yet hate my friends to have the same.
I’d like to say nude, but if I’m honest naked.
Bec @ The Plumbette says
You always surprise me or inspire me Bron and both of these are great qualities I admire in you. I don’t think I could have done nude modelling when I was younger yet my body would have been smaller and less wrecked from pregnancy. I feel better in my skin with my hills and valleys now than I did with my speed bumps and dips. X