Wednesday, September 7, 2011

no ifs ands, but a lot of butts

WARNING: UNCENSORED CONTENT!!!

I can't help but realize that I'm not in Kansas... oops I mean Utah anymore. Where are my sparkly ruby red jimmy choos when I need them but oh wait I have my bright red helmet! Where is my fashion Glenda to come save me?! Nope, I'm just stuck in this Topsy turvy city.
As a little girl I was raised to believe that my body was something that no one but me had the privilege of seeing. My mom would hold up a towel so I could quickly change into my bathing suit before hitting the beach, I never wore sleeveless shirts and I assumed daisy dukes were for hookers (not Katy Perry). Bikinis where a fat chance even though I wouldn't wear one anyways (too self-conscious)... fat chance. And in high school no one ever, and I mean ever takes showers in the girls' locker room. It just wasn't done! So no wonder you see streakers in Utah getting arrested but here in Italy if someone walks past you naked, they might as well be sporting the newest YSL collection.
Gaby didn't warn me about this, lets call it the My-mom-took-nine-months-to-make-me-and-dang-she-did-a-fine-job swagger, or in short the Bsuit strut. All she told me was that we were going to an exclusive gym. Okay free work out at an EXTREMELY expensive gym... duh who says no to that? oh okay those that hate exercise.... even if I did hate it I'd still go. So I went. Saunas, jacuzzi, lounge rooms, Olympic lap pool, weight pool (yes they have that), and rooms full of other amazing things!! Gaby lead me to the changing room so we could get in our swimsuits. As I walked through the door I realized I had stepped into the sultan's harem bath room! Women were running ramped in their unmentionables and Bsuits! I instantly dropped my eyes to the floor and ran to get changed in the toilet. I then went to a locker and put my stuff in side and a girl walked by with her robe... not really robe-ing her. "Oh my Gosh!" I said as got more impatient waiting for Gaby. "Q, get over it," Gaby turned to me, "We're in Europe."
The gym was not so exposing but did kick my butt! Swam for what seemed like forever and then did some hardcore water work out in the weight pool and then chilled in the sauna and the massage pool and explored the facilities. I wanted to put my towel over my head when we had to go back in the dressing room. NOT FUN... for an uncivilized Utah girl.
"So where do you take showers?" I asked Gaby. She pointed, "Just over there." I walked over then quickly turned to Gaby, "Gaby, there aren't any doors, or curtains." "You can try hanging your towel on those nobs." I tried and realized my towel was so short it would expose my assets. And then the towel fell off the nobs and dropped in the puddle of water below. If I waited to go home to take a shower I'd have to wait til it got dark and then the shower would be freezing cold... if I took a shower there the worst that would happen would be other women seeing my butt. I stripped down and bore the Bsuit. I couldn't stop turning around in the shower. Butt, no stomach... wait then I'm showing my... back to butt, can't wash my hair properly turn around... feel exposed turn back around  realize my butt is sticking out of the stall (darn big butts....) turn around let out a sigh of frustration, turn off the water and grab my towel. The first thing I see when I get out of the shower... some girl's butt. Great.
You'd think after that experience I would be a little more ready for the lurking horror of my nude model drawing  class... but no. I was praying that the teacher wouldn't be cruel enough to shock us into her class on the first day. All I could imagine was the teacher (who I had never met before) standing naked and ushering us into class. She was dressed, but the model on the pedestal was not.
I got out my paper and my charcoal, took a deep breath and began. I realized in that short four hours of studying a female nude that I might as well get over it. It is art after all. If that teacher ever has a man hanging around class I'll fake sick and run home. Quite honestly I don't mind drawing what I see on myself but if you make me draw a man ... a naked man in class... I'll bring a stick and blacked out glasses and tell my teacher... freak accident can't see, sorry.  Do you know how awkward it would be seeing someone, who modeled for you naked, in the street?
Thought I should inform you I'm going to go see Michelangelo's David on Friday.

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