3. Write three descriptions of the outfit you are wearing: as it might be seen by an artist, a tailor, and a nudist.
At young age of nineteen I had got to my nude beach. I was wearing a white two piece bikini and a light sun dress over it, the dress went to my middle of my upper tights. I was shocked to see many people wearing Speedos. Both girls and guys wearing very small Speedos, I think I would be more comfortable if they were all just plain nude. I can feel every eye on me; I had become the big fat elephant in a small little room, but wasn’t a little room it was a beach filled with millions of eyes, full of judgment. As I look down at my dress, I could start to see sweat marks between my boobs. I felt as if the big fat elephant was sitting on my chest stopping all air from circulating my body. My friend and her mother, whom lived about ten minutes from this beach must of seen all of my color drain out of my face. My friend’s mother takes me by my hand and started walking me back to the car.
As I looked back on that day, the reality was it was around nine in the morning only about thirty residents of the beach from the beach front apartments were there. My mind took over every two minutes as I stood there on that beach. I know they were looking at me but not in the way my mind munipulated myself to see it. My friend’s mother explained that no one cares if I was wearing clothes or not. She told that most nudists, see too many out of town to care way more. The only reason they where looking at me was, due to the fact I couldn’t stop staring at them. They didn’t care that I was wearing a dress, as my friend’s mother put it how do they know we weren’t going to strip down and start running around? Most of those people on the beach that day where middle age and didn’t care to judge.
Growing up in California I did a lot of camping and was always surround with local college students taking film classes, which my aunt took every summer. The family had become close friend with the college teacher Lee. Lee would always use me to model the light, due to the fact that I was the only person on the camping trip not taking his class. After having to hike miles to get to the spot he wanted to take picture of I would have to sit there, in a puddle of my own sweat and have pictures taken. When I saw the pictures they took, I would always be shocked to not see my sweaty face. Every picture had different views and was pretty in its own way.
If they where to take a picture or draw me right now, it wouldn't be pretty. I am wearing my favorite big, holey, stained, t-shirt I been wearing to bed for the past five years now. I just don’t think anyone getting to find a view of what I am wearing to be anything more then someone rolling out of bed. But then again artist always have a way of seeing the world in a very different point of view and it’s not always a view you would want the world to see.
And lastly a tailor I never have been around a tailor; I have a feeling that a tailor wouldn’t be pleased to see what I am wearing. When I think of a tailor I think of the show “what not to wear,” and “project runway.” In both shows I see the people telling people not to leave the house in what I am wearing in my favorite big, holey, stained, t-shirt. I think they would see me as someone not fashionable, lazy, and a home body that stoped getting dressed for the day.
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