Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Boudoir Shoot 2012

Yes, I'm a litte late with this.
Sunday, May 6th, 2012 was my first boudoir shoot.  I have been preparing for this for the last few months.  The photographer who did my shoot was Joanne Olsen. (Shameless plug)  
On the day that I committed to doing to the shoot, I weighed 169.  On the day of the shoot I weighed 143.  Although that is not my ultimate goal weight, it did give me the confidence to go forward with the shoot.  I approached this shoot like I did my wedding.  I made hair appointments and spray tan appointments, manicures and eyebrow waxings.  I even made a playlist of sexy music that I put on my I-Phone to take with me. 
Scratch that – I didn’t approach this like my wedding.  I approached this like any girl does before she goes on a date with a guy and knows that night is going to be the night that they have sex for the first time.
Shaved legs – check.  Shaved pits – check.  Shaved lady business – check. 
My photo shoot wasn’t until 5:30pm and my hair appointment wasn’t until 4:00pm, so that gave me the whole morning and afternoon to just be the mommy that I am; cleaning up the house, doing laundry for the upcoming week……things like that.  Around 2:45pm, I hit the play button on my playlist and stepped into the shower.  I washed all the ‘mommy smell’ off of me when ‘Dirty’ by Christina Aguilara came blasting on my I-Phone, I came busting out of the shower…….”let’s get dirty; it’s about time for my arrival.” 
I knew I was going straight from getting my hair styled to the shoot, so I knew I would have to take my outfit and all of my other things with me.  For funzy, I decided after I did my makeup, I would put on my outfit, chicken cutlets, and hooker heels and see how I looked (sans hair fixed).
My outfit by the way was a baby doll-looking thing.  It was sheer white with the tiniest ruffle at the bottom, covered by a layer of white silk, and then covered by black lace.  In the middle of my cleavage was a teeny, tiny white bow.  It was pretty and sexy and showed off just enough while covering up just enough.  It was perfect.
I am so glad that I did put everything on.  I realized that I needed to do some minor adjustments, tweaking here and there – and then I was glad that I didn’t discover all of this when I was at the shoot and didn’t have anything handy to tweak or adjust with.  I paused as I was going to take everything off and wondered if I should just leave everything on and just put a cover up on over it.  I mean, it took me a while to get everything situated just right and it was as perfect as I could get it; why chance having to do it again at the shoot?  I looked in my full-length mirror as I was pondering this and standing there 26lbs lighter, tan, and appearing to have monstrous cleavage, I decided that I really just did not want to take it off.  Heck, I was so proud of how I looked, I seriously would have strutted myself on down to the club just like that – if showing bare ass cheeks was something you would not be arrested for. 
So, decision made, I went into my closet for a cover up and about the only thing I could find that would not totally wrinkle or runch my ensemble was this short, blue cotton robe that I have.  I put it on and rolled up the sleeves and tied it at the side and it actually looked like a wrap dress. 
Good enough.  Outfit on and ready to go – check.
I headed to my friend’s house (who is also a hair dresser) to have her do my hair.  I had told her to make my hair look like I had just spent an evening with the Dothraki Lord from Game of Thrones (see the 1st season, episodes 1 & 2 – I highly recommend it).  So, we’re talking as she’s curling and scrunching and spraying and I couldn’t really tell how it was going to look, but I just hoped that her definition of ‘sex hair’ was not the same as my definition of ‘hung over – slept with my head smashed up against a wall after skinny dipping in the lake hair’.
So, she finishes and I go to look in her full-length mirror and thought, ‘Ok – that’s it; I am going to strut myself on down to the club just like this – I don’t care if showing bare ass cheeks is something you can be arrested for.’
I looked H-O-T.  Hair styled – check.
Off in my mini-van (I’m so caught up in all of this, I almost wished I had rented a flashy sports car), I go.  I, again, turn on my sexy playlist and head to the shoot.  At every light or every car I pass, I smile to myself and wonder what their expression would be if I just ditched the robe.  I almost felt like I was sneaking over to a lover’s house (I DON’T HAVE A LOVER) and surprising him with the ole ‘nothing underneath the trench coat’ routine.   “Pour Some Sugar On Me” came on my playlist and I laughed out loud at the irony of it.  I AM MY SEX DRIVE!  SERIOUSLY! (*See my post, ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’.) 
A light caught my attention and I notice that my gas light has come on.  Well, that’s a little awkward.  At some point, I’m going to have to get out and get gas.  I guess the next time I decide to drive across town in lingerie, I need to make sure I have a full tank.  Then another thought comes to me as I remember that my tag on my van is actually expired.  It expired a few days ago and I just hadn’t made it to the tag agency yet.  Oh goodie.  I had joked in a previous post about getting pulled over on the way to the shoot half naked, but that was in reference to getting drunk before the photo shoot.  I wasn’t really intending on getting pulled over half naked because of an expired tag.  And don’t ask me why, but for some reason having an expired tag seems a little white trash to me; I know, I don’t get it either.  So, I’m going to be pulled over, driving a mini-van, because I have an expired tag…..and I will be half naked.  CALASSSY!
Wearing this outfit to the shoot was a bad idea…….or was it?  Getting pulled over while looking totally hot, flirting with the cop while showing him small glimpses of cleavage, and getting to cross that off my bucket list – check.
I do stop to get gas (which the gas station was deserted) and arrive at my shoot, which was actually taking place at a hotel.  I strut right into that lobby, wearing a short robe, sex hair, and 6 inch come-fuck-me-heels……. and carrying no luggage.  I look like a hooker.  It was straight out of ‘Pretty Woman’. 
In the elevator I picture walking into the room – where there is a smoke machine and wind machine going – and I throw off my robe, hop up on the bed and boom; I’m already in the perfect pose.  The lights are low and all the other girls who did their shoots are there (standing around naked) and everyone is drinking champagne and the photographer says, ‘Oh, there’s been a change of plans; I decided that the shoot needed a little something, so I brought a friend.’  And out of the bathroom steps the Dothraki Lord from Game of Thrones (see the 1st season, episodes 1 & 2 – I highly recommend it).
Now, let me say that I knew it was not going to be anything like that.
I go into the room and the only two people there were the photographer and my friend (who organized this).  Well, I guess there were actually 2 and ½ people there.  The photographer brought her baby with her.   Let me just say I have to give that photographer/mother props.  My baby is only just a year old and I remember what it was like when I was nursing him and pretty much had to take him everywhere with me.  Not only did she travel from out of town with this young baby by herself, but she also managed to do a boudoir shoot and keep an eye on her baby at the same time.  At one point, she strapped the baby in a snuggly to her back and stood on top of the bed to shoot a photo from above.  The baby never even made a peep.  It totally gave me new respect for women of the bush who deliver their babies and then the very next day are out in the field shucking corn with their infants strapped to their boobs.
The room is also…….very bright.  All of the curtains on the windows are open. (Thank God we were on the 3rd floor!)  I was not expecting that.  I should have; I mean, I get that you have to have light to take pictures and natural light is the best.  But I couldn’t help but think, ‘I do not believe that I should be wearing lingerie with this much light.  I don’t even have sex with my husband with this much light.’  I started to feel a little less confident.  I did not just throw off my robe as I had intended.  I waited until I was already on the bed and the photographer was ready to start shooting before I shyly peeled it off and tossed it in the corner.
Yep – this reminded me exactly of how it was when I would go on a date with a guy and knew that night was going to be the night that we had sex for the first time.
Wondering if your weird moles are noticeable – check.
Wanting to hide under the covers – check.
Feeling awkward – check, check.
The photographer and my friend saved the day though.  They just kept talking to me like we were just hanging out – like I wasn’t sitting on the edge of the bed caressing my own boob.  They also told me exactly how to pose – I didn’t have to wing it or anything.  For some reason, I had it in my head that the photographer was going to say something like, ‘Ok, show me what you got – come on, work it, work it.  Ok, give me sexy…’ve just came home from work and feeling naughty – very naughty.’  It was all very matter-of-fact though, like ‘Ok, scoot down here – closer to the edge, bring your knees here, and smile.’  Kind of like the gynecologist – well, except for the ‘smile’ part.
The photographer did one other thing that helped me tremendously.  After the first shot I took that was pretty good – she showed it to me.  I couldn’t believe that was me!  I looked great!  That was all I needed for my confidence to come back in full force and to start really getting into it.
Before I knew it – the shoot was over.  It was so much fun.
I strutted right back through that lobby, wearing a short robe, sex hair, and 6 inch come-fuck-me-heels…….exactly one hour after I had arrived.  The front desk clerk had no doubts that I was a hooker.  It was straight out of ‘Pretty Woman’.    
I was on such a high that the whole drive home, I just couldn’t wait to walk into my house and pounce on my hubby.
Of course when I walked into my house, the only pouncing was done by my four kids – all jumping on me at the same time.  And then after they had all gone to bed, my husband had to go to work. Sigh.
Oh well, another night.
Sitting on your couch –all four kids asleep – with the TV completely to yourself and watching the Dothraki Lord from Game of Thrones (the 1st season, episodes 1 & 2)……..
Check, check.

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