The Naked Truth

My belly-button is frowning.  It used to be surprised. It’s supposed to be surprised.  But nothing surprising has happened to my midsection lately and clearly, my belly button is depressed. Perhaps it's all the loose post-partum, post forty skin surrounding it that's making it unhappy.  Whatever it is, it makes me pretty depressed, too.  Not that my bellybutton was ever pleasantly surprised. It was shocked into its permanent “o” shape by all the flab. To me, having ripped abs means tearing a muscle, washboards are for hillbillies and the only time I had a rock hard stomach was when I was seven months pregnant with twins. 

Consequently, I am not a naked person. I do not skinny dip.  I’ve never streaked. I am naked only when necessary:  in the shower and….well, out of the shower before I get dressed.   Naked is to me what decorum is to Brittney Spears.  I do not do naked.

So this new Lifetime (the Network for Women, I remind you) Show called “How to Look Good Naked” with Carson Kressley of Queer Eye fame, bewilders me.

What on Earth would possess women with body issues to explore those issues in a naked photo shoot on national television?!!???   Through the miracle of modern internetology, I was able to watch the first episode, to find out.

Here's the premise:  a body-challenged woman goes to Carson for help in seeing herself as beautiful.  I'll admit, Carson is surprisingly un-sarcastic and still quite funny.  He is likable and seems genuine.  The first subject, Layla, is a beautiful, if not trim, 32 year old who hates her body.

So what does the show have Carson do?  Early in the show he projects a HUGE(though headless) image of  Layla, wearing only her skivvies, on the side of a building, and she only finds out about it when he shares with her people’s (well-edited) and positive responses.  So - Layla didn’t explicitly agree to be on a billboard in her bra and panties (though I’m sure she signed some legal papers) they took her by surprise!  As in: Surprise! We’ve spent all this time trying to make you feel confident and beautiful, but we’ve deceived you and put you up on a billboard!!  Hooray!

“Do you trust me?” asks Carson.  “Don’t you want to complete that journey and be a new woman,”  he coos as he convinces Layla to shed her robe for a (surprise!) naked photo shoot?  And so she agrees.   At the end of the show she's surprised again... by another image of herself projected on the side of a building: NAKED!!!  Though this time she seems pleased. The photo they show is fabulous.  She does look beautiful.  I am genuinely happy for this woman.

I think the intent of the show is good.  I think that women and young girls with bad body image (which is probably, oh, I don’t know….ALL OF THEM) will get something out of this show.  But even though I think that Layla really did look great – and more importantly feel great, for me, it was all a well-edited fantasy.  Anyone looks better with professional hair and makeup in a photo taken by a famous fashion photographer with perfect lighting.  But maybe I just feel that way because --- full disclosure here --   I, too, tried the naked photo shoot to help boost my body image. (Minus Carson, the billboard,  and the national TV coverage) And it did not make me feel beautiful.

I cannot remember what made me decide to have naked photos done.  I was nearing my tenth anniversary and the idea just popped into my head as a gift for my husband.  I think it was a sort of temporary insanity.   As in, "Gee, I could buy him a beautiful pair of cufflinks at Tiffany's or humiliate myself, naked, in a front of a stranger." But I Googled “Tasteful Nude Photos NYC” and found a few legitimate sites.  Long story short, I had the photos taken.  It was hardly transformative.  I had to do something terrifying but look good trying.  My ass hurt, my back hurt, my breasts flopped uncomfortably against my torso.  I felt like I was on an episode of Fear Factor crossed with Top Model.   I kept trying to remember why I was doing this. 

Partly I did it because my daughter, who is seven, is already looking in the mirror and complaining about her fat tummy.  And let me be clear:  she has no fat. She is teeny tiny and (in my totally biased opinion) beautiful. But still, she frowns at herself in the mirror and sucks in her midsection.  Some of it's an act.  She thinks that's what grownups (read: Mommies) do.  To some extent, I’d like to think that it’s societal influence.   But it’s probably mostly me.  I’m so worried about everything I eat, everything I wear, if there were a PhD in strategic dressing I’d get one.  So she must get the idea of body dissatisfaction from me, even though I try not to pass my neuroses along.  So I took the photos to try to boost my body image. 

No such luck. The experience was -- well, not mortifying,– but not transforming, either.  I gave the most well-shadowed/not showing my cellulite or flab folds prints to my husband.  He was thrilled. I’m just glad they’re buried in a drawer somewhere, only to be removed when I’m SO old and crepe-y that by comparison, I look HOT in the photos. 

So, not thinking I look beautiful.  And still not a naked person.  I try self talking.  I try looking at myself and trying to find a body part I like. (left pinky, maybe?)  I'd like to be able to approach my body like I do being a mother:  do the best I can, accept that I’m not perfect, and hope that it all turns out in the end.  Maybe Carson and nationally broadcasting my shame on reality TV would help me arrive at some sort of acceptance.  But in real reality, I don't think I'm going to get there. 

I can only hope that my daughter does.