There they are, as promised earlier this week: the pictures I took with my new glasses (Ace & Tate’s Wes frame in Gold Dust, if you’ve missed last episode), part two.
I was going to write about what I wore with them, how I fell in love with this gorgeous baby pink dress, how I recently realised I’m wearing more and more colours, and then… then I looked at the pictures again, and I started thinking about my relationship with my image, my body. About my self-esteem, my (lack of) confidence. About the fact that it became quite rare for me to post pictures of myself. And that when I do, I always do it all by myself, being the hair & make up artist, the stylist, the photographer and well, the model. It’s always me, my tripod, and a few hours to capture enough shots in the hope that a few of them will be okay.
I don’t really like being in the spotlight. I’m not particularly fond of myself. I feel more comfortable backstage than on the scene. I like to be noticed for what I do, rather than for what I look like.
Posing on my own pictures is more a necessity than a pleasure: I do it because unfortunately, I don’t have a model constantly available to do a better job in front of the lens. What gives me the motivation to take and share these pictures, is the passion I have for the whole process that leads to the final result. Finding the idea, the right clothes, doing the make up. Walking around my house to find the best light, trying different settings on my camera to see what looks best. Editing the colours, the light, cropping, combining, add some elements… even if that means I have to expose my cellulite on the world wide web and take the risk to pass for an egocentric bitch. I don’t really care that much, that’s not what matters to me in the end. At almost 30 years old, I’m finally starting to let go and push my own boundaries, I’m teaching myself to care less about what people say or think – after all, they will always have their opinions and make comments, and it’s their problem. And once you manage to get this in your head, you gain so much freedom.
And since I don’t really have a choice anyway, I try to at least enjoy it a little bit. And I do my best, so I can be happy with the result. And if it’s a good day, who knows, maybe I can even gain some self-esteem, find my face pretty on a picture, realise a colour or a cut looks good on me, and not be depressed about what I look like. Maybe it sounds stupid, but it feels like some kind of self-love therapy, it allows me to continue doing what I love, while learning how to love myself a little bit more.
So as from now on, every time you’ll see my face here, think about how awkward I felt when I said ‘cheese’ ;)