The Boudoir Experience

budiouphotoAs you may or may not know I signed up for yet another Boudoir Photo Shoot, even though I had done one early in the year. The photo shoot was so much fun, the pictures turned out great, and it turned out to not be a complete robbery of my wallet to get some of the professional pictures. All last month I was working out, walking, and eating a little more carefully in preparation of the Boudoir action I’d be getting.

I collected more little outfits to wear at discounted prices and made sure that they fit. Believe it or not as it came down closer to my photo shoot time I share with my coworkers I’d be getting it done. They were excited for me and so I buzzed with excitement when they day finally came.

This time I was going to try a traditional corset where someone ties you up so you can’t breathe, can’t move, and in general can’t think with it on. My husband instructed me to breathe in and out at the opportune time and of course I breathed out when I should have breathed in because he was trying to kill me. Those little strings pulled tighter and I wondered if the corset was giving me a bear hug I could never get out of. He kept on pulling and pulling obviously enjoying seeing me squirm in pain.

When he was all finished he had me try to bend over, I could barely accomplish this and had to bend at the right angle. My wonderful hubby then said it was too loose if I could bend over, so I ran away from him and stupidly drove myself to my photo shoot.

I nearly crashed into the car in front of me more times than I can count. I told myself to focus on the road but my mind kept on trying to find solutions to breathe better without pain. That corset choked my rib cage with a vengeance and I wondered how women did this when this piece of torture was a fashion necessity. This time for my cover up clothes I wore my little shirt dress that I love since I can’t imagine wearing the corset with jeans. Once I got to the location they sat me down (ouch!) and fancied up my hair and put on some smokey eye makeup plus some fake eyelashes.

This time I was so much more relaxed to be half-naked with another woman in the room who coincidentally had a camera with her. I could feel myself less guarded and also less hyper this time. The smiling and different looks came easier to me, and I was out of my head with being self-conscious. And not being self-conscious when you’ve spent your whole life being that way is definitely priceless.

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Booking a Boudoir Photo Shoot

When I look at pictures of myself I am always trying to hide something. Having a picture taken of me is like the worst form of punishment because I never think that I look good in them. If I’m not trying to pose a certain way to hide my stomach the picture was probably taken without me knowing. That’s what comes to me when I think of pictures, hiding a part of my body, or being ashamed of it once I see it.

budiouphotoI think that a boudoir photo shoot is maybe the perfect way to face my body, accept it, and have pictures where I’m not trying to cover everything. Any other point in my life I’d think about doing something like this and laugh, but I’ve booked the photo shoot and I’m getting together the clothes (or lack thereof) that I need for it. After I booked my appointment I got this email of what to expect for it, wear bright lingerie, bring lotion and false eyelashes if you want them applied for the shoot.

It’s funny how my appointment, which I booked finally over a month ago, is coinciding with all of my interviews I’ve been doing this week. I’m not sure if this is a reward, or one more thing to be stressed about.

I don’t really own any high heels, or makeup, and I’ve never bought false eyelashes in my life. Now, I did have the false eyelashes for my wedding so I know they look good on, it’s just I don’t even know what to look for with getting them. To say that I’m not a girlie girl is a definite understatement, but this whole new life in a new place has taught me to do things I’d normally laugh at. Or, even try something that I could never see myself doing.

My boudoir photo shoot is booked, coming up, and I am looking forward to it. It will either be an escape, or another thing to worry about, but I’m doing it either way.

Flashing a stranger my bra

No, I did not take a one ticket plane ride to Vegas, got drunk, and took off all of my clothes without knowing, this was intentional. I thought I was prepared for the semi-annual sale to try on the limited amount of lingerie that interested me and was, of course, discounted. Lingerie being discounted is like catnip for me. I’ve taken notice of the women with dilated pupils clawing through bras and panties so I was not the only one.

The first time I came, the line had twenty people in it, the second time just as much, and I’ve learned that don’t buy something you haven’t tried on… Especially with a bra. That bra may look so pretty in the store, like my recent rhinestone bra I bought without trying on with the last sale. But, when you wear it with a clingy shirt it makes you look like some kind of bumpy breasted monster. I love looking at the bra, it’s my first and last sparkly bra because it shows through all of my clothes. I am now wary of rhinestone on any bras.

Luckily, this time, there were only three people ahead of me in line and so I took my place. My turn came up and the lady asked for my name, and something I wasn’t expecting.

What’s your bra size?

I kind of looked back at her, thinking knowing a bra size should help them if I need help. I told her last time I was measured what the size was, she looked at my chest, and shook her head.

I don’t think your that size, I think you might be this size. Let me measure you again.

I said that was fine, and maybe thought about measuring because of losing a lot of weight recently. She shook my hand twice, and I assumed the position of arms out to the side, and then at my waist. She told me the size she thought I was at bra wise, and went back to get it. The bra she came back with was tiny, and I kind of held it out in front of me with a surprised look. “I just am so not fitting myself in this, I mean, yeah, I just don’t think this will fit…”

It was my turn and I took my tiny bra and my reduced bras in the bag with me. They told me to try on the tiny bra, press the button when I was ready, and then my bra expert would be in to check it out. I rarely flash women my bra, if this happens I’m probably in Vegas wearing too low-cut of a shirt. I squeezed myself into that tiny bra and watched as my chest exploded from all sides, and front.

She has got to see this, which was my first thought. I pressed the button, she came in, and I pointed out the spillage from all sides. I went up another size, still felt like the bra had a vice grip on my breasts. I went up another size, it was better, I could breathe, but I still felt like my original size was the one I was most comfortable in. Then, the whole collection of bras were pushed underneath my door to try on in the I’mnotgoingtodie sized bra and I was seriously overwhelmed. There was like eight bras for different styles and to see which one I liked best.

I took a breath, and turned my attention to the two bras and cute little sleep number that I had originally brought with me. All I could think about was the line outside waiting for a room to open up and it’d only take me a little bit to see if I liked them. Plus, bra shopping is like bathing suite or jean shopping for me, it seriously gets uncomfortable trying on multiples and it gets less fun as I keep on going. I tried them on, liked them but didn’t necessarily love them like I can’t live without them in my life.

Then I remembered the boudoir photo shoot I bought and I have to muster up the courage to do one of these days. I needed a sexy little thing for that! Went back to the sales rack, came back, tried this little corset sexy thing on. It was in the size of one of the tiniest bra sizes they tried me in, and it definitely didn’t fit as a corset either. I was bummed since it was so cute on, and all I needed was just one size bigger. I went back to the racks, kept hoping for that one size bigger but it alluded me.

I left there empty-handed and with all of my excitement for shopping for discounted panties and bras sucked out of me. I flashed a lady  my bra repeatedly and squeezed myself into tiny sizes that squished my chest from all sides. Oh, and I locked my keys in my car and my husband had to drop off my spare key… It was quite a day.

That isn’t so sexy… how about something else?

I am more than an advocate for my honey always telling me how pretty, and how sexy I am even in my worst of times. But, even he has his moments where I want to shake him. I was walking around in my comfortable P.J.s and he asked me where my other ones were. I thought I knew where they were, but didn’t know why he was asking me.

“Because those ones are sexier…” 

To which he had me stomping around trying to find the ‘sexy’ ones so that I didn’t look like I was in a sack. Of course, I know what he means, but still. If you like sexier PJs then get them for me, if not, I will wear my comfortable stuff especially after work. I then changed into something, and grabbed a different top, and he told me he’d like the first thing I’d wear instead of what I was holding.

I swear, seriously? I cooled down later, of course, but was huffing for a bit after that.