And now? Now I walk into the studio in front of eight men and two women, say hello and drop my shirt in a rather apologetic way. It does nothing to cover the vivid blush spreading from my cheeks to what used to be my cleavage when I wore clothes to hold it together. I apply some translucent powder – about the only thing I’ll be wearing for the next 30 minutes. Young, bearded and heavily tattooed, he high fives all the artists on leaving and does not strike me as naturally bashful. My fellow sitter has just left the platform. How I will expose my average, totally naked, 40-year-old body to a roomful of strangers. I’m wondering, when my time comes, what I will do. I remember one sitter who took her clothes off item by item and sat glowering at us from her bar stool for a full hour. Some walk out of the toilets stark naked making small talk with the class. Life models often have a silk robe that sort of sighs to the ground before they take their pose. You can tell a lot about a person from the way they undress.
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