There is nothing a thinner body could give me that I do not already have. On a down comforter-covered king-size bed, in a Courtyard by Marriott hotel, I got naked for Substantia Jones and the Adipositivity Project. I don't mean that I took off my pants or my shirt.
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How a White Slip Helped Me Find My Forgotten Sexuality
And, armed with all that knowledge, I came up with these 11 secrets and tricks for taking nude or erotic photos almost instantly. Myspace has done a lot of damage to the world. But beyond setting web design back a solid 12 years and occasionally making people commit suicide, one of its true cardinal sins was making people think it was OK to take self-portraits by extending their arm as high and far as they can and taking a photo of themselves. Yes, you look better from a super-high angle. It hides every chin except your primary one and up to pounds. Your best bet in making the photos look good is to have someone else take them. Which means they pick up everything.
In , photographer and self-described "Uppity Fatty" Substantia Jones started the Adipositivity project, which "aims to promote the acceptance of benign human size variation and encourage discussion of body politics," by publishing images of women, men, and couples of larger proportions. The idea is described on her website as "part fat, part feminism, part 'fuck you. I recently talked to Substantia about body positivity and the ins and outs of her photographic practice. VICE : How do you find your models? Substantia Jones: I'll occasionally ask someone if they're interested in dropping through for my camera, but mostly people contact me, asking me to photograph them. Model search isn't really a part of the equation. How do you approach them? Not every fat person is an "out" fat person—unapologetic and openly accepting of the place their body occupies on the spectrum of benign human variation. The word fat is a morally neutral descriptor, while overweight is a term of judgment, and obese pathologizes that which is naturally occurring. So approaching a stranger with a pronouncement about their body—any pronouncement about their body—is likely to be unwelcome.
As I enter into middle age, I hear a lot of my female contemporaries lamenting the fact that they have very few photos of themselves holding their babies. Now, ten or twenty years later, they realize the folly in their decision. They only have a handful of photographs reminding them of those special early days with their babies. By the time I was in my mid-thirties, this propensity for female friends to throw up an objecting hand when I pulled out my camera already annoyed me. But on the other hand, I got it. The idea of taking photos of our imperfect selves can even feel downright scary. As someone who suffers from body dysmorphic disorder, I get it more than anyone. And not only that, but to take it one step further and take naked photographs of themselves.