Stripped down

Strip

/strɪp/verbpast tense: stripped; past participle: stripped

1. 1.remove all coverings from.
2. leave bare of accessories or fittings.

I am quite rude, no but like, for real. I say it like it is and boy, do I like a good clean argument. I often get annoyed with people who make statements and then post something contradictory and when called out on it they revert to “I don’t do confrontation” and then I am left reciting my well crafted rebuttal to an unwilling cat.

I don’t care for movements or fads. I don’t care for attention seekers or posting online for sympathy. In the words of a badly written pop song. “Thank you, next”.

What pisses people off most is, I don’t have issues with my body. I look the way I look. When I feel like I need to lose weight I try to lose it. When I feel like I don’t just live. I believe in eating healthy and will scoff down a bag of Doritos dipped in cream cheese if I feel like it. I like my body. I don’t think this makes me brave or courageous. This makes me human. I don’t think one needs to declare “SELF LOVE” in order to like yourself and my unpopular opinion is that those words are tossed around in the fear that people might just think you are conceited.

I stripped down.

Because I am kinda hot and I have nothing to be ashamed of. I am ridled with scars, marks and flab and I appreciate every bit of it.

About a month ago I started speaking to Shante from Rose and Thorns about doing something different, a shoot she hasn’t done before. She is not only one of the most talented photographers I know but also a dear friend who I enjoy vey dark inside jokes with. I told her what I liked and she did the creative directing.

I wanted to have something to look back on to celebrate surviving the toughest two years of my life and boy, Ive had quite a life.

I wanted to look back on ever scar, every stretch mark and besides for these photos making it into my own Fap-File, I want something to show for a time when everything was stripped from me. My health, my pride and my work. I was left bare.

Everything I spent so long building up got taken away in one fell swoop. I was left naked. And then suddenly, I realised naked wasn’t all that bad. I had nothing left to carry around and there was no more chaffing. I was ok. I am ok. In fact, I am going to be just fine. So here it is, a celebration of being just fine. And perhaps even a little conceited.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

All photos taken and edited by Shante Hutton.