There are few things more authentic about my life right now than the fact that I am constantly trying to dress in a way that is as close to naked as possible without getting in trouble.
If you follow any of my social media accounts, you probably already know that I refuse to train with a shirt on, my shorts barely cover my butt cheeks, I wear the smallest possible bikinis, and I’m always barefoot.
I’ve written before about why I post naked photos on the internet so often, for reasons including embracing my true nature, and participating in non-sexualized female nudity because I believe the world needs more of it. But some people still ask me why I choose to show so much skin in so many of my posts. I can see how it might seem hypocritical that I talk about how a woman’s value is completely unrelated to the way her body looks, while also posting photos of mine so frequently.
The truth is though, my internet persona is an extremely accurate reflection of my real-life persona, up to and including my desire to be as naked as I can get away with. At this particular moment in my life, I am deeply, abundantly empowered by nakedness. Here’s why.
My journey to nakedness
I have always loved clothes. In middle school I shopped exclusively at cheap stores like Charlotte Russe and Forever 21. I didn’t have enough money for good clothes, but it didn’t really matter, because I thought all the “good clothes” were boring. I liked having the wardrobe diversity to dress myself in what were sometimes closer to costumes than actual outfits.
At some point in middle school, like most girls, I started reading fashion magazines. My mom was dead set against them, but I adored all the fabulous outfits. The women in the magazines didn’t dress ANYTHING like the girls in my high school; fashion seemed weird and unique and beautiful! At first I felt encouraged to treat fashion like an exploration, and continued dressing in ways that pleased me.
But eventually a shift took place. Through those glorious fashion magazines, I learned that I had been using clothes wrong. Clothes weren’t for self-expression and fabulous visuals, I finally learned. Clothes were for tricking people.
It became clear as I consumed story after story on how to dress myself that some clothes were only ok for some bodies, and other clothes were ok for other bodies. It became clear that as a woman with curves, my job was to constantly downplay and disguise those curves and keep people from noticing them. It was unacceptable to just “wear” my clothes, I had to arrange them in a way that created complicated optical illusions, so as to not offend anyone or give the wrong impression.
When I got dressed, it was my responsibility to manipulate the thoughts of everyone who saw me that day. Everything I wore was designed to draw the eyes of onlookers to one place on my body, and to keep their eyes from going somewhere else.
Source: Jessi Kneeland
Original publication 5 May 2016
Posted on NatCorn 26th July 2021
Reference to an article does not infer endorsement of any views expressed.