Contrary to popular belief, that is not the life of an art model. Yet people continue to ask me if I “sit around naked all the time” when I’m not modeling. Hey, I like naked time as much as the next person (OK, maybe a little more), but I do wear clothes, you know. I like clothes. A lot. What girl doesn’t like clothes?
I have this cute cartoon in my head (if only I could draw!) of this art model in a reclining pose in a horrible wicker chair; then she is all bundled up and walking home in the next panel; and the last panel has her home, naked, and in the same exact pose in the same chair in her living room. Funny, huh? Yeah, that’s not really what happens. Although, I do sometimes sit in a similar pose on my couch (force of habit), I am usually clothed.
Gesture posing is another story. Because you know that I am always voguing around my living room. (I love that voguing is in the dictionary. 1989 represent!) It’s funny that some models (I hear) do not really get the whole “gesture” posing thing, and they just stand there. Then they turn 45 degrees and just stand there. (Repeat as necessary.) Not cool! Totally boring, too. If you are only doing short poses (anywhere from 10-60 seconds), mix it up and have some fun. That is not that long to hold an interesting pose with some twists and angles. Graceful arms, pointed toes, a twist at the waist all add variety and look darn pretty. Even 1-3 minute poses are fine for adding creativity — as long as you can hold it. (Yoga helps with balance.) Yes, I do practice gesture poses at home because I don’t want to look like a moron in front of a class. We all know that there is good naked and bad naked, so no crouching, please.
Last night, my friend Dani had this funny book from the seventies with photographs of nude models in a variety of poses. I would not recommend this particular book for modeling ideas, though, because there are about 50 photos of a naked woman sweeping. Yes, sweeping. With a broom. Because that’s what women did in the ’70s, they cleaned their house with only their Amy Carter bush to keep them warm. And there were crouching photos, too, because, you know, you have to get down with that dustpan every now and then.
For those of you who are not familiar with my juvenile sense of humor, you may be surprised to learn that I am sometimes 12 years old and a boy. Get over it. I will point and scream when I see a ginormous mound of pubic hair — what I call “Amy Carter Bush” — in a photo from the original “Our Bodies, Ourselves” or in an an old art book. I have always found it terrifying, and I thank the Brazilian Bikini Wax gods every single day for keeping my lady business out of everyone else’s business. Hey, if you want to be all natural, you go for it. But you should know that nobody wants to see that at the beach or pool, so wear appropriate attire to keep it all tucked away, mkay?
Back to the modeling, now. I totally had to stifle a coughing fit the other night because I knew how horrible naked coughing looks. There I was, with just one cheek perched on a stool, one toe pointed, bright light in my eyes, and a tickle in my throat. Yes, I know that I can excuse myself and get a drink of water, but I never want to seem (too much) like a diva. Instead, I held it in and kept swallowing. Then my eyes started to water. Great, I thought. They are totally going to think I am crying. Is a crying model better than a coughing model? I think so. I could use a little sympathy during a particularly painful pose. And “Tears of a Model” would be a much better song than “Tears of a Clown.”
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