The Naked Photographer and 25 Yards of Purple Skirt

I wrote the  Bellydancing post the night before but didn’t have a photo to go with it.

I never thought I’d ask Jon to take a picture of my in my Belldanicng skirt and choli, but it felt like the right time.  I was still not completely comfortable with the idea, but knew it was important to take that risk.  It was about being honest and about how I had progressed in my confidence in myself when it came to Bellydancing.

It seemed like the next step.

I wasn’t nervous about buying the purple Bellydancing skirt (it’s made with  25 yards of  fabric, so it swirls when I do and even after I’ve stopped moving) but I was nervous about wearing it.  I had this idea that I didn’t want to invest in too much clothes for Bellydancing, because I thought it would jinx me.  That putting on the clothes before I was a good enough  dancer to wear them was making the dancing about the clothes and not the work of dancing.

The word ‘Hubris’ kept coming to mind.

When I imagined myself walking into my Bellydancing class with my purple skirt on and that pretty choli that Julz gave me, the scene  turned into a Shirley Jackson story.

The women I danced with every week would all turn to look at me, as I walked thought the door,  as if I had broken some secret code.  Some kind of strange and evil ritual, (that, of course, involved dancing), would happen next and I would be shunned or banished or disappeared.

But I loved that purple skirt and couldn’t wait to wear it.  I got it on sale for $25 from Shinny Squirrel and it makes my hips look bigger (which they really need)  and  makes all my hip movements shout instead of whisper.

I knew I would lose my nerve if I didn’t ask Jon to take my picture first thing in the morning (and I wanted to get my post up) so I put on my Bellydancing clothes right out of the shower and before Jon could take his shower, I asked him to take my picture.

He was more than willing.  And without really thinking much about it, we went outside, me in my purple skirt and choli and Jon naked.

I did a few different dance moves, Taxeem, Egyptian, Body Wave and Jon took pictures, asking  me to move into the sunlight, taking the time to get it just right, oblivious to his nakedness.

My “Egyptian” was far from perfect, but at least my arms were up and even I could see the joy exuding off of me.

I chivalrously lifted the yards of purple skirt to cover Jon’s lower body as we walked back to the house, the morning traffic speeding by on Route 22.

I love that I trusted Jon enough to take my picture and that he was so eager to do it.

That’s how we are about creativity.  It’s an important part of our relationship and we both have enormous respect for it.    We don’t submit to it blindly, but it is a driving force in out lives.

The next day I wore my purple skirt to Bellydancing class.  Julz and Kathleen all but applauded me when I walking into the class.  Then they said to try doing the Egyptian in front of the mirror so I could  see how different it looked with the skirt on.

I can’t imagine ever wearing anything else to class.  Except, someday, the pantaloons and another layer of skirt underneath the purple one, which is all a part of the ATS Bellydancing outfit.