Save for intimate partners, I hate being naked in front of other people. My own mother hasn't seen me naked since I was about seven or eight.
Even when I'm in a bathing suit at the beach or in my underwear in the gym locker room, my mind immediately goes to what other people might be thinking about my body — how they might be judging or scrutinizing it. And, as body positive as I strive to be, it does bother me.
So what possessed me, then, to get up in front of room full of strangers and literally bare it all? Call it the ultimate body-positive challenge, or an experiment in not giving a shit, or even just facing my fears. I wanted to see what others saw when they looked at my body, and what better place to find out than in an art class?
I've never done any kind of modeling, art or otherwise, but when I contacted the Art Students League to see if they'd let me pose for a class and write about it, they agreed.
The Art Students League is in a gorgeous old building in Manhattan and has been instructing artists — like Georgia O'Keeffe, Jackson Pollock, and Ai Weiwei, among others — for more than 140 years.
I was greeted by Valentine, the model coordinator, and Leslie, the other model who was going to be posing with me for that class.
I was really nervous when Leslie brought me up to the studio and I saw that there were more than 20 students in the class — way more than the half dozen or so that I expected.
The class was a mix of men and women, most of whom looked like they were above the age of 50.
"Oh, we have a new model here today!" one student said brightly as I walked past. I smiled meekly and gave her a small wave.
Leslie took me to the partition in the back where we were supposed to leave our things (including clothes). When Leslie pulled on her cover-up and I told her I didn't know I was supposed to bring one, she lent me her spare, a black-and-bleach collared smock that buttoned in front and came down to my knees.
"Don't be nervous," Leslie told me. "These are some of the kindest eyes you'll ever encounter," she said, referring to the students who were setting up easels and supplies.
She told me that the way the three-hour class usually goes is that first the models go through a series of one-minute poses, then a few 20-minute poses, each with a five-minute break in between, and a longer break halfway through the class.
"I find the worst part is disrobing in the beginning, and covering back up after each pose," Leslie said. "That unveiling, it feels the most vulnerable."
During each break it was best to cover back up, she said. "Some models don't — they just stay naked during the breaks, which I think is really unprofessional." I nodded in agreement, though I didn't know that was even an option until then.
Then the instructors, Ellen and Mary Jo, finished setting up the studio, and the class began. It was showtime.
I felt my heart in each footstep out to the platform where Leslie and I were going to be standing and posing.
"Who picks the poses?" I asked. Suddenly I had no idea what to do.
"You do, but sometimes Mary Jo might come around and make some slight adjustments. Try a good mix of sitting and standing ones," Leslie said. "The one-minute ones are like a warm-up; you can really stretch and do interesting poses."
"We like a lot of angles," Mary Jo added. "But try to keep the poses as casual as possible."
"OK," I said. I would not be doing any vogue-ing, apparently.
"All right, first one-minute pose starts now," said a student who was keeping time. Leslie took off her cover-up, and I followed suit.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god — I'm naked right now in front of all these people, I thought as I took up my first pose. I had one hand on my left hip and the opposite leg up on my toes; my knee was trembling slightly and I tried to breathe and still it.
I heard the ding of a bell.
"Next pose," the time-keeping student said. I tried another one this time with my arm up by my ear. A minute later, the bell again. I took a different pose. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a student whispering to Mary Jo and I panicked.
Oh god, I must be failing at this, I thought. They hate me as a model. I must be the worst muse ever.
At the next bell, Mary Jo approached the platform where I was standing. "You have to rotate," she said. "You've only been facing one side of the room; the students on the other side are only getting your back."
"Oh!" I almost laughed. "My apologies…" I posed the other way.
After 20 or so one-minute poses, Ellen announced the first five-minute break.
"You're doing a good job," she said as I put my cover-up back on. "Those were good poses." I smiled. Leslie asked me how I was feeling.
"Good — better," I said. "It's not as bad as I thought."
I took the first break to stretch my legs and walk around the studio and see what the students had done so far.
They were using all different mediums and all different styles — but each piece was beautiful.
Mary Jo called time and Leslie and I got undressed again for the first 20-minute pose.
"Pick one that's going to be comfortable for 20 minutes," Leslie said. "I'll help you. The last thing you want is for your muscles to cramp up. But if you picked a pose and after the time starts you really can't take it and you're like, 'oh god, this was a mistake,' just say something and they'll let you change."
Leslie suggested a sitting pose to begin with, and I sat down, angled my body to the left, and draped my right arm over the back of the chair.
"Yeah, that looks good," Leslie said. Her pose would be the same for two 20-minute intervals — the perks of being an advanced art model, I suppose.
I had my right leg balanced slightly on my toes again, which I realized was probably not the smartest idea because my quad did start to cramp halfway through.
But I stuck it out, and soon the first 20-minute pose was over. Ellen announced a longer break for the class and Leslie offered to show me around the building a little.
"You know," she added, "if your muscles get tired, try to use other muscle groups to take over at different times. You can also flex, then return to the pose. That's OK to do."
Leslie toured me around the gallery, where each of the different classes displayed their students' work.
The artists whose names had a red sticker next to them were the ones who were deemed to have the best work in the class at that time, Leslie told me. In the class she and I were modeling in, a student named Kenny was the red-sticker winner. Mary Jo also had one next to her name.
Many of the students usually spend the longer break in the cafeteria, which is where Leslie took me next.
A handful of the older students sat at the table having snacks and chatting.
Leslie and I sat down with Kenny for a while, who was eating a couple of hardboiled eggs. Kenny worked for Disney for a short time, she told me. "I also worked doing caricatures in Times Square," he added. "It could be pretty competitive."
Leslie seemed to know everyone in the cafeteria, and greeted them each by name.
It turned out, she's been doing this for a while.
"My mom ran an art studio when I was growing up," Leslie said. "I had — um, body-image issues when I was younger, and that's why I got into it. Cleared it right up." She snapped her fingers.
She's been modeling now for 17 years, she said, and currently does it full time, mainly for the League.
Leslie and I went back up to the studio for the rest of the class...
…which went by, unsurprisingly, very quickly.
The beauty in doing this wasn't just challenging myself to feel comfortable in my naked body — it was also in seeing my body as artists do: as a work of art, the way every body should be.
Walking around the room after the class was over, seeing the pieces that each of the students completed, I saw my body as a dozen strangers saw it — and it was beautiful.
It just took me a while to see it, too.
