It’s strange how the bigger I grow, the more invisible I become.
My campus had a photo shoot today, to recreate vintage photographs of students on campus participating in a variety of activities, both recreational and academic. Over the past month or so, we signed up to represent these people in old black and white photographs. The photos will be displayed permanently on campus, on the school’s website, and at various alumni events.
Props in these photos, such as type writers and mega phones, were replaced by laptop computers and cell phones. We were encouraged to dress like these people, but with our own modern twist. For example, if the girl in the vintage photograph is wearing a belt, you were asked to wear a belt. I found a photo of four fashion students. Two were fitting garments to their respective mannequins. A girl in a dress stood on a platform and was fitted by a fourth student. I signed up for the role of the model and put on my favorite dress for the shoot.
Not everyone who signed up showed up, but we were able to find some last-minute volunteers. A tall, thin girl with high cheekbones and the longest arms and legs agreed to be in our photo.
“You should be our model!” the student photographer gushed.
In the photo, it was she that stood on the platform, in her “chic, fashion forward turban”, leggings, and fitted blouse.
I knelt at her feet, measuring one of her legs.
The other students “worked on” their respective mannequins.
And in that moment, I loathed my body more than I have in months.
“But if you ever hear someone
Say you are huge, look at the moon, look at the stars, look at the sun
Look at the ocean and the desert and the mountains and the sky.”