Getting Naked for Money
On nude life modelling, and the importance of Aphrodite’s back rolls
As a self employed artist, I’m used to working every single side hustle that I can imagine. I just hadn’t imagined getting naked for money until much later in the self employed game, when an artist friend needed some reference photos for their painting which I helped out with…the suggestion was made; would I do this for strangers?
I have a fun amount of fat on my body, which makes a fun amount of folds and lines to draw. I have tattoos covering about half of my body which also adds another fun aspect to draw (if the artist so choses).
I also happen to be an aggressively body positive woman, and I am happy to think that maybe one person might see my body and feel a little more normal or comfortable in theirs, because of this.
When I see a pair of saggy boobs on the beach it makes me so happy, I think about how I am her and she is me. I would love to be that for another woman, in an art class. Or better yet, be the image that reminds men that real bodies don’t match their hairless prepubescent fantasy, and that real boobs don’t defy gravity the way they so often do in the media.
With the above mindset, you can see how it felt like a logical side hustle for me to venture into. I emailed a bunch of art schools and classes in my surrounding area and waited to hear back.
One school responded, and I had my first session booked in. It was with a small group of people in a Lisbon fine art studio, for a long pose. I had a couple weeks to prepare before the first class, which I spent looking at myself in a mirror and contorting my body into what felt like interesting poses. What’s interesting is that my biggest worry ahead of the class was making sure that I was a good enough model. That my poses were interesting enough and that I could stay in the same pose for an extended amount of time. It wasn’t often that my mind wandered to the idea that I would be posing naked in a room full of people, with them staring at me for hours.
I was staying with a friend for a week before my first modelling session, so I used her to help validate my poses as interesting. Her laying in her bed, me standing in a pose while she timed it and we both watched Married at First Sight on the TV.
Prep in terms of posing felt easy, prep in terms of appearance was also fairly easy. I exfoliated my body and shaved my legs and moisturised. Armpits and further are not shaved in my day to day, therefore I didn’t feel the need to do that for the class. When I confirmed my spot for the class, I forgot to consult my uterus about the scheduling - which, naturally, she took as a personal insult and showed up uninvited the day before.
I don’t like to wear tampons (period pants TILL I DIE) so I was left in a tricky position. Obviously I needed something that was going to be stopping the blood closer to the source than a pad or underwear, considering I wouldn’t be wearing any underwear that wasn’t even an option. A tampon or menstrual cup would have to be it, but I am not one of those women who has mastered the menstrual cup insertion manoeuvre (I try once a year when I’m feeling brave). That left us with a tampon as the only option.
I proceeded, after some serious thought, with a well timed tampon insertion with the string cut off - no one would be any the wiser.
I arrived to the class early, so I took myself to the corner cafe for a small beer and ran through the poses in my head again, before taking the 2 minute walk upstairs to the studio. The teacher was super warm and kind and showed me where I could get changed. I could tell the artists had all been here before, and they knew what they were doing. The regulars welcomed me and made small talk while I made my way to the front of the class where I’d be posing. The teacher asked what I felt comfortable doing for the long pose, and reminded me of the structure (3 hours in total, 20 mins posing, 5 minute break and so forth). I was chatting a little about poses I had prepared but fairly quickly we realised it would be easier to just show them. The teacher asked me to disrobe and that was that. I thought about it for about 0.1 of a second, and before I could form a full thought on what level of nervous I was at, the robe was off. I was then naked with a group of strangers critically staring at my body; not critical of my body itself but critically analysing the poses I was suggesting as we figured out together what would be best for me to stay in for a long period of time and what would be interesting for them to draw. Everyone was super kind, and any pose I suggested they wanted to make sure I was comfortable. Our final pose was decided after a few minutes and had me on a chaise lounge with my legs to the side.
We drew around me with chalk, to make it easier to return to the same pose after breaks. One final check from the teacher and then we were away. I found my spot on the wall and I settled in.
1 minute in: Nerves were gone.
2 minutes in: I wanted to look at what everyone was doing.
3 minutes in: I was thinking about how much I was blinking, was I blinking too much?
4 minutes in: I wanted to look at what everyone was doing.
5 minutes in: I felt my thigh muscle randomly twitch, did everyone see that? Did they think I moved on purpose? Do they now think I won’t be able to make it for the full session? Shit. Settle in. Relax muscles. Chill out, everything is fine.
10 minutes in: I stopped worrying about random muscles twitching and started meal planning for the week.
15 minutes in: My joints and muscles started to feel aware that they had been in the same position for 15 minutes. I worried about the next 2 hours and 45 minutes.
20 minutes in: Break. Massage my leg to try to get feeling back. Get ready to go again.
One note for anyone considering entering the life modelling world - it hurts a surprising amount. It is a real test in endurance, because after a while your muscles and joints are just telling you to move your body, but your brain’s job is to remind yourself that you need to stay still. You’re going against your natural instinct and you’re keeping yourself in a physically uncomfortable position because that is literally your job. A lot of my thinking time was just me telling myself “you can keep going it will probably be only one more song until your next break it’s fine just stay still”. Otherwise (after my first 20 minutes of a very busy brain) I don’t really know what was going on in there. I’m not one of those people who just “zones out” easily. I would say I have a fairly active mind that doesn’t really like to chill out. Meditation is something I am notoriously bad at. But after a while, you almost don’t have a choice. Your brain has to turn off, and you are just existing in a natural state with zero thoughts. It’s weird. It’s also one of the only times I can remember that happening. Maybe life modelling is my new meditation?
The few thoughts I had, weren’t worries about my body and how it looked, it was actually worrying about making sure that I was in the exact same position as I was before. I wanted so badly, to make sure I was doing a good job as a model. And to be a good model in the art world, you don’t necessarily need to be thin and perfectly proportionate (like in the fashion modelling world). Having spent years as a model agent, I knew that the most compelling subjects were never the conventionally perfect ones - it was the model with the strong Roman nose being booked by Vetements, not the tanned blonde who I was sending to lingerie castings.
If you look at the roman and greek statues that fill the world’s biggest museums, you’re seeing more women who look like your average person rather than what we see on the billboards around town
Aphrodite and her soft belly and back rolls.
It’s immensely empowering to see your body portrayed in the same way that we see the Goddess of Love. It makes you feel sexy and strong and comfortable with yourself.
I’m aware that definitely wouldn’t be the case for everyone, but it’s how I felt after the class. Looking at how people perceive me, rather than how I think they perceive me.
Your body is a fact in that situation, it’s not something to be interpreted in different ways, depending on whether the artist finds you attractive or not, but it is there to be directly replicated on a piece of paper. In oils or pencil or charcoal or whatever they choose, but the actual body is there as a fact rather than an opinion piece. I think we would all benefit from looking at ourselves this way from time to time.
We spend so much energy managing how we think we’re being perceived - sucking in, covering up, apologising for taking up space. For three hours I had no choice, I had none of that available to me. My body just was. And nothing bad happened.
That feeling followed me home. Not in a dramatic, life-changing way, more like something had quietly recalibrated.
It’s not a bad thing that I don’t fit those jeans anymore, it doesn’t make me any less or more of a person than anyone else, but it is a fact. Therefore, I will buy new jeans.
