No. 03 | Full exposure: lessons from getting naked on camera
Giveaway: Softer, a photographic exploration of the female body, by Nikki de Poel
In the previous issue (and first audio episode) of Letters by Deepa, I wrote about my relationship to my teenage body, and how the words of the people we love shape the way we see ourselves.
Since writing and recording Gold, I thought about searching for a specific moment that illustrates how far my relationship with my body has come since then, and reflects how I see myself today.
It would have to be when I posed nude in front of the camera for the very first time. Sixteen year-old Deepa would have never dreamed that one day, her naked ass would end up in a museum and on public display in the streets of New York.
From Paris to New York in a living photo
In March 2018, Jamie Beck, co-creator of the cinemagraph and one of my favorite photographers and Instagram idols, posted a casting call. She was looking for women to pose for a series of cinemagraphs—living photos that combine a still image with video details moving in a seamless loop—to be exhibited at the International Center for Photography Museum in New York.
Squelching the nagging voice in my head—You’re too fat, she’s a professional photographer, she only works with models, there are tons of gorgeous girls out there, she’ll never pick you—I slid into Jamie’s DMs. And I sent nudes.
(As a woman in the digital age, I happen to keep a handful of flattering nudes in my back pocket. Do you? You never know when they might come in handy, but they must be used with caution at all times.)
Out of the 250 women who replied, Jamie chose 24; I was one of them. Three days later, I was on a train to Paris, and ready to drop my clothes on set in front of Jamie and her husband and co-creator Kevin, who would capture it all on video.
I expected that the act of posing nude would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, a revelation that would transform my entire relationship with my body. As it turns out, it wasn’t.
To be sure, the experience was exhilarating, empowering, and exciting.
As a former fat kid who’s struggled with my weight and self-image for most of my life, I will never forget seeing Jamie and Kevin getting all excited on set. Oh my God, perfect, that’s it, you look amazing, this is so beautiful, you’re a natural!
And when I traveled to New York for the opening in the spring, seeing myself naked in a museum was incomparable.
During the day, the cinemagraphs were displayed on screens inside the ICP Museum. At night, they were projected floor to ceiling from the windows, so that everyone on the street could see them.
Many people walked on by, but others lingered. One girl who had stopped turned to me and asked, “Wow, aren’t they beautiful?” She didn’t recognize me, probably because I had my clothes on.
Those moments huddled in my coat against the April night chill, watching total strangers looking at my naked form like a work of art, I’ll treasure all my life.
Am I addicted to taking my clothes off for the camera?
After that first barrier was broken, I discovered that all it takes to cross that threshold again is a photographer I trust and respect, and a creative idea that excites me. I posed nude two more times after that, also for female photographers I admire.
In 2019, I collaborated with my friend Adrienne Wildeman for Huidgeschreven (“Written on Skin”), a series of portraits that explore what happens when you take away clothes and poses, and leave nothing but skin telling stories.
As Aad and I talked while shooting in my bedroom, I recalled the act of shedding my high school uniform, which I associated with being a good girl, and later a good wife, mother, and woman. I wrote the word good on my naked body, to peel off all the expectations of “goodness” society imposes on me and instead, choose to be good on my own terms, in my own way.
And in 2020, in the midst of a global pandemic, Nikki de Poel (a.k.a. Satellite June) came over with her medium format film camera to shoot for her book Softer, which celebrates the softness of the female body and how it changes over time.
That brings my total nudie count so far to three. And those are just the legit ones—don’t forget about those nudes in my back pocket.
Am I addicted to posing nude? Is this going to be a yearly thing? Am I going to take every single opportunity to drop my pants in front of the camera?
Probably not. But there is something inherently powerful about doing so.
Moment of truth: the photograph as mirror
What I’ve found is this: the moment of reckoning isn’t when you drop your clothes in front of the camera. Yes, it is confronting, because at that point the camera will see what it sees and there’s nothing more you can do about it. Even 200 squats won’t save you now!
There is the photograph—then there is the moment you see it for the first time. You see yourself from angles your bathroom mirror never shows you. You notice things you never did before.
A chorus of voices begins to talk all at once. They all sound like your voice, but they’re not. They are a collection of other people’s stories about you, messages you’ve heard from others all your life, disguising themselves as you.
Here lies the greatest opportunity for grace, kindness, and liberation.
Recognize that these voices are not your own. Do not believe them.
Wait for them to fade to silence. When the chaos settles, let the photograph speak.
Let it say what it wants to say to you. It may surprise you.
Sit with it. Listen to it. Thank it.
Perhaps this is why I pose nude: for the opportunity to I come face to face with myself, treat myself with kindness and love, and remind myself that I am beautiful just as I am.
Photographic evidence of self-acceptance
To the photographer, each of these pictures is the realization of a creative vision. For me, it is a record—a beautiful, artistic record—of the shift that has already taken place inside me and has been unfolding for years.
It is the result of all the love that has been poured into my body over a lifetime:
- of my husband’s unconditional acceptance of my body’s gradual expansion throughout 13 years of marriage;
- of the expression of sheer delight and contentment on my daughter’s face when I grant her permission to pull up my shirt and snuggle onto my bare, pale, jiggly belly;
- of lovers’ slow caresses on my striped thighs and loose skin;
and so much more.
It is a document that attests to my acceptance of my body. And some documents need to be renewed from time to time.
It is proof of my willingness to be seen just as I am, and my refusal to let other people’s stories of me control me.
And it is an honor to have that evidence of my self-acceptance be so intimately entwined with an artist’s vision:to be clothed in their ideas, to be bathed in their light.
Win a copy of Softer by Nikki de Poel
Thank you so much for reading this far. As a gesture of gratitude for your time and attention, I’m giving away one copy of Nikki’s beautiful book Softer.
To enter the giveaway, just reply to this letter before 12:00 CET on the 10th of March and answer the question:
Would you ever pose naked for a photo? Why or why not? (Or if you have, I’d love to hear about it!)
I will draw a random winner and notify them after the 10th of March. This giveaway is only for subscribers of Letters by Deepa. If you haven’t yet, subscribe here:
Jamie, Adrienne, and Nikki, thank you for your incredible vision, for the opportunity to be part of your body of work (pun not intended), and for the beautiful pictures.
In the next issue of Letters by Deepa: I’m about to reach a motherhood milestone I’ve been both looking forward to and dreading.
See you in two weeks!
Cinemagraph courtesy of Jamie Beck and Kevin Burg.
I somtimes pose naked with my husband, and we take a self portrait. We first took a photo like this, belly to belly, 20 years ago. I think it must be time for another.
I would pose naked bc I’m proud of my body: it gave birth, it breathes, it walks, it works, it sleeps, it touches, it protects etc. But I think I would like to keep these photos for myself and my loved ones or my head need to be cropped of... 😅😂💋 Great read Deepa! Beautiful experiences.