Type A. And B...and C....
More and more I'm frustrated by the computers at my local library, and cannot wait to replace my defunct laptop so I can blog away in the comfort of my lofty bungalow, music blasting, no restrictions on what sites I can view or what programs I can open. I find my writing more rhythmic with rock music blasting directly into my ears, and the silence of the overheated room is deafening. It's more tolerable when the air is on, but today it's merely a montage of oscillating fans blowing on my face at evenly-spaced intervals. I am tempted to don the headphones simply to drown out the random internet ads eeking from the computer next to me, the operator too rude or too ignorant to silence them. Instead, I grit my teeth and bear it.
This morning I plowed through the latest in a string of novels, my television having burned out last week. It's a number I picked up in a brown paper bag on the sidewalk in Williamsburg years ago, and have kept on the shelf, unopened, ever since. It's taken until now to realize it's actually an autobiography, a memoir of sorts by a stripper-turned-writer who feels the rise of unresolved emotional issues and sets out to strip her way across the country before getting married. I am surprised by how quickly I relate, given that I've never danced on a pole a day in my life, particularly when she speaks of the west and the shock of nudity in a community both rustic and conservative. The line between modeling and stripping is so thin I can already see where their shadows overlap.
When I first got in front of the camera I was nonplussed by the possibility of emotional discomfort. Degradation? Please. Having been convinced in earlier years by pretty much everyone that my imperfect body was something to be ashamed of, I have over the years abused, poisoned, and hidden it in an attempt to disappear. Finally something broke loose. While my gay club-going contemporaries had long-ago embraced me, I needed to allow myself that same fanatical adoration of my body. To quote the above author, I too have "situational exhibitionism", and I jumped into my birthday suit without candor.
Not for a second did I think about branching out farther than the reach of a hobby, but that's exactly where I find myself after only a year. One thing I never asked myself, which is perhaps the most important question in pursuing a career in the spotlight, is "in what light do I want to be seen?"
The immediate response was overwhelming. It would seem there are few women of my particular shape and size that are willing to take their clothes off for the camera, and I was swarmed by photographers both professional and not-so, all wanting "high nudes" and "sexy lingerie". The more obvious creeps just wanted to see my large breasts, but even many of the professionals were eager to shoot me because they didn't have many (or any) plus-size models in their own portfolios. I had gotten what I wished for, and don't they warn you of that?
The novelty of popularity quickly wore off; I don't like being someone's guinea pig. Photogs who shoot skinny girls rely on the shape of the model to make the shot, where it takes more knowledge and talent (and better lighting) to make a bigger girl look as sexy. I started turning down offers to shoot, and started asking myself that original question.
In creating your own portfolio, know that it takes some trial and error to find good looks for you, and what genres you're comfortable working in. It helps if you know something about them, because if you don't your face will betray you every time. You can tell, for example, if a boudoir model has never been romanced in the bedroom. There is a wise aspect to the sexiness required to pull off this style of modeling. (That being said, the right photographer can coax this look out of any woman.) Likewise, fetish modeling is best left to those with an interest in the community and/or a fetish of their own. Being cinched into a corset is not for the faint of heart (or breath), nor is being bound. And unless you're a terrific actress, your eyes will show nothing but ignorance.
What am I getting at? Do your homework. Just like they told us in acting school about getting good head shots, know yourself, know your type, and know your photographer. Find examples of how you want to look on film, and those are the photographers you want to work with. Collect an assortment of full body and head shots. Show variety. One of my favorite shoots was one in the photographer's home where I pulled off four fantastically different sides of myself in one sitting (http://www.facebook.com/TLChristians/photos ...the James albums). He let me be everything I am: badass, sweet, and goofy, in addition to my sex kitten typecast without ever trying to put me in a box. He, like every photographer with whom I want to work again, let me do the one thing that will make every photo in your portfolio beautiful: have fun.
This morning I plowed through the latest in a string of novels, my television having burned out last week. It's a number I picked up in a brown paper bag on the sidewalk in Williamsburg years ago, and have kept on the shelf, unopened, ever since. It's taken until now to realize it's actually an autobiography, a memoir of sorts by a stripper-turned-writer who feels the rise of unresolved emotional issues and sets out to strip her way across the country before getting married. I am surprised by how quickly I relate, given that I've never danced on a pole a day in my life, particularly when she speaks of the west and the shock of nudity in a community both rustic and conservative. The line between modeling and stripping is so thin I can already see where their shadows overlap.
When I first got in front of the camera I was nonplussed by the possibility of emotional discomfort. Degradation? Please. Having been convinced in earlier years by pretty much everyone that my imperfect body was something to be ashamed of, I have over the years abused, poisoned, and hidden it in an attempt to disappear. Finally something broke loose. While my gay club-going contemporaries had long-ago embraced me, I needed to allow myself that same fanatical adoration of my body. To quote the above author, I too have "situational exhibitionism", and I jumped into my birthday suit without candor.
Not for a second did I think about branching out farther than the reach of a hobby, but that's exactly where I find myself after only a year. One thing I never asked myself, which is perhaps the most important question in pursuing a career in the spotlight, is "in what light do I want to be seen?"
The immediate response was overwhelming. It would seem there are few women of my particular shape and size that are willing to take their clothes off for the camera, and I was swarmed by photographers both professional and not-so, all wanting "high nudes" and "sexy lingerie". The more obvious creeps just wanted to see my large breasts, but even many of the professionals were eager to shoot me because they didn't have many (or any) plus-size models in their own portfolios. I had gotten what I wished for, and don't they warn you of that?
The novelty of popularity quickly wore off; I don't like being someone's guinea pig. Photogs who shoot skinny girls rely on the shape of the model to make the shot, where it takes more knowledge and talent (and better lighting) to make a bigger girl look as sexy. I started turning down offers to shoot, and started asking myself that original question.
In creating your own portfolio, know that it takes some trial and error to find good looks for you, and what genres you're comfortable working in. It helps if you know something about them, because if you don't your face will betray you every time. You can tell, for example, if a boudoir model has never been romanced in the bedroom. There is a wise aspect to the sexiness required to pull off this style of modeling. (That being said, the right photographer can coax this look out of any woman.) Likewise, fetish modeling is best left to those with an interest in the community and/or a fetish of their own. Being cinched into a corset is not for the faint of heart (or breath), nor is being bound. And unless you're a terrific actress, your eyes will show nothing but ignorance.
What am I getting at? Do your homework. Just like they told us in acting school about getting good head shots, know yourself, know your type, and know your photographer. Find examples of how you want to look on film, and those are the photographers you want to work with. Collect an assortment of full body and head shots. Show variety. One of my favorite shoots was one in the photographer's home where I pulled off four fantastically different sides of myself in one sitting (http://www.facebook.com/TLChristians/photos ...the James albums). He let me be everything I am: badass, sweet, and goofy, in addition to my sex kitten typecast without ever trying to put me in a box. He, like every photographer with whom I want to work again, let me do the one thing that will make every photo in your portfolio beautiful: have fun.
Yes! Have FUN! My second ever and period, lol, nude shoot was sooooo much fun! And it made me feel beautiful. I just LOVE all you have said here - thanks and keep up the excellent work! Raisin Girl, aka, Karen :)
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