I DROPPED MY ROBE, AND THERE I WAS, STANDING ON STAGE, NAKED.
Two disclaimers: Firstly, yes, by naked, I mean NO CLOTHES WHATSOEVER, and secondly, did I mention it was entirely voluntary?
When I told my mother (in excited squeals) that I was going to take part in the international show ‘Naked Girls Reading’ she asked me (with eyebrows raised higher than her hairline), “What on earth is that?”
I took great pride in telling her that it is exactly what it sounds like:
4 WOMEN. 1 STAGE. AND ONLY OUR WORDS TO CLOTHE OUR OTHERWISE ENTIRELY NAKED BODIES.
Naked Girls Reading. Started in 2009 in Chicago by Michelle L’amour and Franky Vivid, its (ahem) unique format caught worldwide attention and now appears in over twenty-five international cities. “Yeah,” I said to my mom as her face twitched and she pretended not to care that her daughter’s theatre debut would involve (and pretty much revolve around) full frontal nudity, "it’s kind of an actual thing.”
As a writer, a fierce lover of the arts, and a bibliophile, this was already a dream come true. I said yes to the opportunity before I could even grasp the concept that all I would be wearing on stage was my blue worn-out Converse Sneakers. Unorthodox is an understatement, I think.
“Wow, that’s brave” was the predominant response I received, which, mostly, was a euphemism for: “You’re crazy, I would never do that.” When I told my friends and family (after a brief moment of awkward confusion where they blinked twice and took a second to ask themselves whether or not they had heard me correctly ("Did you say… Naked?"), the prevailing question (which I am going to answer now in full) was, “Why?”
WELL (pulls up sleeves), besides the facts that:
1. I got to be on stage, which I have loved since I was 3 years old, and,
2. I had the opportunity to read my own poetry to a ready and willing audience (who were neither my dog nor my bathroom mirror),
There are two primary reasons why I decided to do it (which also happen to be the reasons why the show is such a hit):
Reason Number 1:
FUCK PATRIARCHY.
There isn’t a day that goes by when I will not scream this from the rooftops. I could go into more detail on this, but all you really have to do is go and read some of the comments we receive on social media under the "Naked Girls Reading" posts. We’ve seen this issue raised in 2017 in the Anti-Trump rallies and protests all around the globe (to which I say VIVA). We've also seen it raised in many recent phenomena, such as the #metoo movement. Patriarchy’s effects are wide and systemic, but at the very base of its dominance vs. submission dynamic, women are objects. John Berger (what a loss for 2017) spoke about this so beautifully in his award-winning series ‘Ways Of Seeing’: historically, a woman’s body has not belonged to herself, but to the men around her. This fact is reflected in our rape and domestic violence statistics, and the objectified portrayal of the female body in mass media.
Getting naked on stage was my way of saying, " I am mine, before I am anyone else's."
Our bodies are more than just objects of sexual desire (I mean, duh???), and part of the beauty of Naked Girls Reading is how the nudity becomes normal. Just as we are made vulnerable by being witnessed, so too is the audience made vulnerable by the blunt confrontation of our nakedness. We sit down and begin to read, and suddenly the nudity becomes secondary to the actual literary content. In this way, NGR dismantles stigmas around the female form and desexualises it.
Yes, I’m fucking naked. THIS IS MY BODY, and so are the choices I make for it.
Reason Number 2:
BODY POSITIVITY
It has taken me a long time to come to terms with the fact that I will never look like the girls I see in magazines. The truth is, the majority of us won’t… But that’s the whole point. Since when did diversity become a bad thing? We’re all made a little different, and how can we keep telling ourselves that our bodies are wrong? The women on stage with me were of varying heights, sizes and ethnicities, and each of them were celebrated for their differences – which is how it should be. On top of this, our nakedness meant that what you saw was what you got – our cellulite and fat rolls honestly and proudly on display. Because we shouldn’t be made to feel ashamed for how we look.
This was a way of saying, "This is me and I LIKE ME THE WAY I AM. Take it or leave it."
A lot of people thought that I had a lot of confidence to take off my clothes and stand in front of a spotlight… but the truth is, this was an important step towards claiming that confidence. I’ve historically been the type of person who prefers loose and baggy clothing, doesn’t own a crop top and crosses her arms over her stomach when she sits down. This was a HUGE leap for me.
So, what made me take it?
Because I am tired of waking up and feeling unwelcome in my own skin.
If there was anything, ANYTHING, that was ever going to force me to confront my curves and the chocolate-pudding wobble in my thighs, this was it. And it worked, not only did I walk off that stage feeling like a liberated and empowered woman, far more comfortable and confident in her own body, but I also saw the pride and relief on the faces of the women in the audience as our own honest nakedness gave them permission to love themselves again and forgive their insecurities.
Bare with me (badumtiss), because it may sound melodramatic, but this entire experience changed my life. Probably in ways I am yet to even foresee. Although the concept was started 8 years ago, it still has so much relevance today. It’s more than just naked reading, it’s about standing up for something you believe in, taking the risk to do something you never thought you’d do, confronting stereotypes and limiting beliefs, as well as facing your own fears and breaking boundaries, stepping out of your comfort zone and being open to new things.
The naked truth is, if you’re willing to open yourself up to opportunity, it will open itself up to you.
This event was held at PopArt Theatre in Maboneng. All photos by Phillip Santos.
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