Audacity is Stunning

Jul 18, 2015 by


          I told Ryan, the photographer, that I was going for hot, not cute. I’m cute in everyday life. I wanted to look sexy. I warned him and my pole friends that I was going to need some direction. They certainly delivered:

          “Put one hand on your thigh,” Ryan suggested.

          “Your hand, Maria,” Jocie reiterated.

          “Where do I put it?” I asked.

          “On your body,” she said.

          “Touch your ass!” my pole partner yelled.

          “Now your other hand on the other cheek,” Ryan added.

          “So both hands on my ass?” I asked for clarification.

          “Yes,” they answered in unison.

          “Arch more and stick your butt out.”

          “Chest to the pole.”

          “Heel up.”

          “Boobs to the floor, Maria.”

          “What should I be doing with my face? Feel free to correct me. We’re going for sexy,” I reminded Ryan as the side of my head was planted to the floor with my ass up.

          “I think you’re doing a pretty good job,” he confirmed.

          Looking at the resulting photos was more fun than underwear shopping, and I love underwear shopping! I have on multiple occasions spent hours posing in sexy things for myself in the change room at Victoria’s Secret.

          I love my body.

          In all seriousness, the main reason I wanted near-naked photos of myself is to remember when I’m old and wrinkly how gorgeous I am now at 25. Posing in my underwear for a camera is something I’ve wanted to do for years, but it was in October that it jumped in priority. I had just walked out of Pierre Hermé in the sixth of Paris. I had gone to the left-bank location for the famous vanilla tart not sold at my nearest Pierre Hermé in Marais. After eating the tart (which was like eating silk, by the way), I walked down rue du Vieux Colombier. There, in the window of Aubade, I saw the sexiest lingerie I’ve ever seen in my life. I could have worn it beautifully, but not for its price of €640. I went back to my apartment that night to Skype my best friend at home on the other side of the world to tell her that I’d need her to take boudoir photos of me whenever I could justify my next hot underwear purchase, i.e. probably once employed again.

          So, when Jocie told me that the studio would be hosting a pole photo shoot in June, my first question was, “How little can I wear?”

          “You can wear as little as you want,” she said.

          “I’m coming in a bra and underwear!” I exclaimed as I felt the twinkle in my eye. I had just one more question: “Will I be edited?”

          Thankfully, the answer was no. When 80-year-old me looks back on these photos, I want her to see what I really look like. Too much of our world is filtered, and I don’t like it. I don’t even use Instagram filters. Doing so would go against my personal principle of presenting myself authentically. To be double sure I wouldn’t be edited, I asked Ryan the same question when I met him the day of the shoot. He too confirmed that editing was a no. I was relieved. I wanted to see everything – curves, flyaway strands of hair, and pole bruises – as per real life. I didn’t even take advantage of the free onsite makeup artist. I applied my own eyeliner and mascara, the only two bits of makeup that I own, and left it at that. Like I said, I love my body. My intent was to commemorate it as it is.

          The experience was incredible. I didn’t even need to see the photos to know that I will be stripping down for a camera again (in September, to be specific). Loving your body enough to show it off just feels sexy.

          “It keeps falling,” Ryan said after trying to trail my pearl necklace, already hooked between my heel and my finger, over my ass.

          “Oh, you can just stick it right in there,” I responded nonchalantly.

          “I did just meet you,” he joked.

          “Ang!” I called to my pole partner.

          “You want me to stick them in your butt?” she asked as she hurried over.

          “Yeah, so they don’t fall.”

          Without hesitation, she used her index finger to push the pearls into my ass crack.

          That’s friendship.

Happiness Tip: Love your body.

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