Confessions of a Nude Modeling Newbie
Last November, the Internet “broke” over photos of Kim Kardashian going full frontal for Paper magazine. The Twittersphere was freaking out, morning shows were censoring on overdrive, and I was secretly praying: Kim K., give me strength!
You see, the very same day that those controversial images were released was the day I would be modeling nude for the first time. Naked. In my birthday suit. No clothes.
Celebrities and models get naked in semi-public all the time—for film roles, editorials, runway shows. (Kim Kardashian has turned nakedness into a legit business.) But, with the exception of maybe the odd nude beach, most people I’ve known have never taken the ‘nuddy pants’ plunge.
Nude modeling was something I’d thought about doing for a really long time — ever since I minored in studio art in college — but clearly, not something I’d felt strong enough about to actually act on, to strip down in front of total strangers.
But I’ve often wondered what it’d feel like to be on the other side of the canvas. So when my friend, an artist and art teacher in Connecticut, asked if I’d be willing to take it off in the name of art, I agreed without hesitation.
The class, which catered to beginner artists of all ages, took place at night — and on my evening, there were about 10 people in attendance. Despite my initial desire to go fully buff, I chose to keep a G-string on at the last minute, after personally being a little icked-out several years over a model’s unpleasantly dangling tampon string. (You’re welcome, class!)
Before the students arrived, I changed into a robe I’d brought for myself and helped my friend arrange the desks in a semi-circle, along with a chair, a stool, and a floor lamp.
Even though I’d filled a water bottle halfway up with Pinot Grigio (what can I say; I was a little bit terrified), things started getting real when the people began filing in. Some were my parents’ age, others, a bit older, and a few looked like they could’ve graduated alongside me. My friend introduced me to each student, and suddenly, it really hit me: I was going to be getting naked in front of a bunch of people I’d never met before, and soon, they’d be scrutinizing my every lump, bump, and curve. Joy!
While everyone took their seats, I had one more swig from my bottle and disrobed, trying not to make eye contact. I learned that one classmate wouldn’t be attending because his girlfriend wouldn’t let him draw a live model (quite the scandal). The room was kind of cold, but I remembered Geri Halliwell writing in her excellent 1999 autobiography If Only that the sets during her days as a glamour model were always kept freezing in order to preserve boob firmness — so I felt I was in good spiritual company.
As I stood there in my first minute-long pose, I started freaking out internally: What if my poses sucked? What if I couldn’t stay still? What if I had to use the bathroom? What if I started giggling? What if I… farted? To say I was terrified and totally out of my element would be an understatement.
Thankfully none of that happened; I managed to stay weirdly still, repurposed a few post-workout stretches as poses (all the ones I’d Googled prior were long gone from my head at that point), and even stifled my laughter when I heard my friend tell one of her students to “focus on where the nipple is on [my] breast.”
That’s when I started feeling something else I would never have expected: Confidence! I couldn’t believe it — me, the girl who snips down the cuffs on her short-shorts to elongate the inseam, and avoids wearing anything with cap sleeves — actually felt pretty freaking comfortable standing and sitting without any clothes on in front of a group of strangers who were staring at every physical part of me. For once, I stopped focusing on the things I don’t usually appreciate — thighs, belly, breasts that make that old “more than a handful” adage sound like a cruel joke — and instead, started seeing myself as a part of the bigger picture, literally.
This is what I look like to a class of art students.
There’s a reason why all those full-body paintings you see hanging in museums tend to be of curvy women: The soft lines and lack of hard angles is somehow more visually pleasing on a two-dimensional plane than the bony alternative. No, I’ll never look like Kate Moss or Karlie Kloss… but there’s nothing wrong with being a real-life Botticelli, either.
What’s more, the drawings that resulted from my modeling session were so much kinder than I’d expected. It was refreshing, for once, to see myself as others actually see me in their own eyes — and not just when they’re trying to butter me up or be polite. As much as I didn’t know them, they didn’t know me either. Meaning, they didn’t owe me any favors.
Will I ever try nude modeling for a class again? YES, totally. While I’m not sure I’d actively seek out a gig (I’m still a little insecure about picking my own poses ), I loved the sort of out-of-body rush it gave me. I wasn’t just a naked girl standing in front of clothed people, I was a still life — and a vital part of the artistic process that’s existed for thousands of years. As a life-long art lover, it really doesn’t get much better.
Then again, Ms. Moss — who’s done plenty of nude modeling in the past, recently said she’s done with posing in the buff out of respect for her young daughter. I can’t say whether I’ll feel similar when I reach a similar point in my life, but for now, it’s an experience I wouldn’t take back for anything — and one I’d highly recommend everyone try at least once.
More from Yahoo Style:
Did Madonna Pose Nude (Again) for Mert & Marcus?
Kate Moss Is Done Posing Nude
How to Get Justice for Your Leaked Nudes
