Sunday 21st January '07. 75.5kg (Last time I checked)
Again, it has been a while, but what with the exhibition, Christmas and the forthcoming assessments I just haven’t had the time. The show went off without a hitch thank god, and it has given me a lot more confidence in many areas, especially with ‘displaying’ myself, as it were.
The show featured several photographs of me dressed up in fifties and twenties regalia. These had been taken last summer when we went to visit my Nan who lives in Devon. One of my Mum’s ex boyfriends (Who has remained a good family friend) lives not too far away so we went on a trip to see him one day. Now he just happens to be a professional photographer. He used to work for EMI but had moved down to Dorset to set up his own photography business and get away from the rat race. Shortly before our trip to my Nan’s he had requested doing a photo shoot with me in order to advertise his new business. Not being one to pass up an opportunity to dress up, I obligingly arrived with a whole suitcase full of clothes. The shoot itself turned out to be one of the best experiences of my life. It may not sound like much, but for the first time ever I felt genuinely beautiful. I was a little nervous at first, but he soon put me at ease and I took to it like a duck to water. Now don’t laugh, but I will confess that one of my secret, secret dreams has always been to be a model. When I was young I used to dream about it all the time. I knew I never could be, even when I was a size 8, due to a huge scar running across my stomach, (Being 5ft tall at the time didn’t help either) but it never stopped me secretly believing that maybe, just maybe… I used to sit there filling out all the modelling competition forms in my teen magazines for hours. I just somehow never got around to taking a photo and sending it off.
I don’t know why exactly, but I have never in my life felt pretty. Of course, there was the scar, a remnant of the accident I had when I was four, but as it is hidden most of the time, it never usually bothers me that much. I was pretty monstrous as an early teen (Glasses, braces, bad hair, overweight – the works) and had all the attendant teasing you would expect, but it was nothing too out of the ordinary. I do have a Mother who is very honest in her opinions on my appearance. I appreciate it actually, and I do love to regale my friends with the fact that I alone had a Mother who, on seeing me coming down for breakfast one morning when I was about thirteen exclaimed “Are you wearing make-up?” “No” I hesitantly replied. “Shouldn’t you put some on?" she said. The only problem with total honestly is than it can lack tact at times, especially when you are young and insecure. She has also been very vocal on the subject of my weight, always has been. I get the definite impression that she is slightly disappointed in me for looking the way I do. But she means well, and I don’t think she has warped my tender young mind too much! So all in all, I can conclude that there have been no significant events in my life to make me feel this way about myself, I just do. And so therefore, must many other women. As we women are so fond of saying, it’s just all the little things that build up over time.
The only problem with the photo shoot was that I got into it so much I actually started believing it, so to speak. I felt like a beautiful, mysterious twenties starlet. I felt, in essence like somebody else. When I finally saw the photos they came as quite a shock because there, resolutely staring back up at me was me. I was dressed up, made up and attractively lit, but I was definitely me. I don’t know what I was expecting, a miraculous transformation perhaps, but to say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I am ashamed to say that the only thought running through my head, over and over like some kind of sick mantra, was “god, am I that ugly?” It took me a good month to finally get used to the photos and start seeing them, and myself, for what they were. Now I love the photos, I think I look great in them, even god forbid, pretty.
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