View allAll Photos Tagged bodyimage
This young woman is in her mid-20s. Her Baby Angel tattoo might have been a street name given to her by her pimp who, in return, made her tattoo it as a sign of being literally his human property. In such case, tattoos are branding for modern day slaves.
Famous (naked) graphic ("generic") version #5.
I guess this is "final" idea I could come with - just removing all the naked body features on the drawing. Just details of face, hands and feet. Nothing else. Are they naked? Are they clothed? If they are clothed, I would guess: in spandex LOL...
I hope that NOW is it really SAFE according to Flickr rules.
Part of a series I am doing.
I am doing this series partly because we are def. a beauty obsessed culture & also because I am not happy with my own appearance. I need to fix that, & it's something I am working on, but it's extremely hard. None of my self-portraits look like me, & there is a reason for that. I stopped feeling good about the way I look a long time ago. Applying for jobs in my field & getting turned down due to my age isn't exactly helping, but hopefully, I can get there.
I don't say this for anyone to tell me I am beautiful, because A) you don't REALLY know what I look like
&
B) It's more important that I think I am beautiful.
I'm not proud to say that I relapsed last night. I didn't even realize it was happening until it was over and I feel disgusting because of it. But I know that this doesn't mean that I am a failure. I know that I need to pick myself back up. So this morning I decided to do some new portraits and took a few body shots (on the clean side) as well. These are something I have never done, but I'm pretty happy with how they came out and will be experimenting with them more.
I will be okay.
Remember the issue of Newsweek with that title? There was a teenage girl on the cover looking at her reflection and prodding her flesh, the implication that American women can't see their own bodies in the mirror.....and as hard as I stared - too fat? too thin? - I couldn't tell which she was.
....It's even worse with my own body.
I've been losing weight lately, and not in the good way. Stress, unhappiness, money. Stress kills me. I can't eat. It's pathetic to try to eat a few slices of toast and not be able to stomach one bite. Depression makes me so unmovitated I can't move (ie it's 3:30 am, and I have class in 4 hours. I'm still waiting to start my homework, and can't even compel myself to bed). And then given my financial situation I literally have no income, so I'm not exactly buying myself groceries. Bad all around.
My wasp-waist seems to be slowly disappearing, while cushioning falls away from my hips and boobs, making me susceptible to painful accidents involving doorknobs.
My butt is still my butt, but my pants are falling off at the hips - I look for my stomache, and see straight down my pants to the floor. I have to belt them in a few sizes, which means chunky denim folds - pretty uncomfortable....but I don't want to buy new clothes, as I anticipate gaining my fluff back when life is simpler.
Still? Every time I notice the 10 pounds or so of empty air spinning around me, a well-trained foolish part of me rejoices. I don't think I'm healthy right now, but every time someone comments on the weight I've lost, my brain fires off a little happy dance somewhere deep inside, even as I explain that it's not healthy for me.
My back is one of the most noticeable places my fat comes and goes as my weight fluctuates.
When I was dieting, the smoother my back was, the more accomplished I felt. The smoother my back, the more worthy I was.
I’m sorry, back fat, for ever being ashamed and afraid of you. I’m sorry for not taking more pictures of you.
I promise to do better. <3
Andrea represents our high-fashion natural body image partner, As|UR, with elegance and natural beauty so unique to her, this set is a true delight.
Old School Cut & Paste (Scissors & Glue) Collage created for the weekly themed blog The Kollage Kit.
This week's theme: BODY IMAGE
Background of USA map made of fabric squares from an issue of Art Direction magazine, circa 1969. Lovely 'Amber' from "Two Models" 1930, oil on canvas by William M. Paxton (1869-1941). I used a piece from my book entitled "Swatches" to modestly cover the poor confused girl!
- Ani DiFranco, Shameless
Ever since I was about twelve years old, I've suffered from major self image issues. Even when my body is "skinny" for me, I still feel too curvy to be pretty. Of course, the amazing thing about this 365 Day self portrait project is that I've grown more comfortable in my own skin. And I have so many of you to thank for that. Not in any direct way, but really, when you become so immersed into the 365 community, you sort of go along for the ride with other photographers as they conquer their own self image issues. Or you watch enviously as other photographers bare themselves in ways you might cringe at, all with a sort of "yeah, this is me, you got something to say about it?" attitude. So in getting to know all of you, I believe I've made some big strides in conquering my largest insecurity, which is my own body.
It helps to be a part of such a supportive group of photographers who are also tackling the challenge of getting healthy and losing weight. The 52 Fit group has really helped me to stay on track with my resolution to make 2010 the year that I took back my life, lost the weight, created new healthy habits, and became gorgeous in my own eyes again. So thank you to all of you who are involved with 52 Fit.
As I draw closer to the end of my 365, I've been starting to wonder what comes next. Do I immediately dive back in for a year 2? Do I take a break and focus on my wedding? What if I stop shooting a photo every day and somehow lose what I've learned up to this point? What if I commit to another year and fail miserably? These are all questions I don't have the answers to yet. So bear with me while I mull all of this over in the coming weeks.
365 Days (self portraits): Day 345
TOTW: Insecurities
Musically Challenged: Ani DiFranco - Shameless
Hairodynamic: Anonymous Hair
Photograph published on June 3rd, 2022 { link below }
www.bnext.com.tw/article/69819/product-manufacturers-mask...
The first time I encountered this fantastic character was a few months ago, at the Easter Day Parade on 5th Avenue. That day, she had some sparkling stars covering her nipples. And the photo I took of her that day may have been acceptable to show/share according to the "moral" standards in American media/culture.
Last week, on the most scorching day of the heatwave in NY, I saw her again. This time her breasts were fully displayed. She felt free and she made a statement with her own body. I snapped a photo of her walking by, she saw me and asked if I wanted a better picture of her. So she posed for me. And she looked interesting, natural, beautiful... Only this time the original image could not be shared or seen... Because society has grown a culture of shame on nudity, on skin exposure, on owning your own body.
From Spain, my mom always gets angry at the average American puritanical vision that caused what was called "The Nipplegate" in the infamous wardrobe malfunction that led Janet Jackson's nipple be shown accidentally on stage at the hands of Justin Timberlake on their performance together. It is indeed terrible hypocrisy to denounce something like that as obscene, while I can turn CNN on any night while having dinner and see violence worthy of a forbidden "snuff movie" on my TV. And yet, no one screams against any of that.
A woman's breast, a man's buttocks, some pubic hair showing... No matter in what context will be fought by those who claim it can traumatize or pervert children's minds. And seeing someone being shot in the head or blown up by a bomb in the Middle East won't do that, right? Sometimes I feel like screaming "Wake Up!". Children of the 21st century are way more ahead than you'd think. And if they want to see or learn about sex, there's nothing you can do to stop that. Then again, that is the whole key of the issue... How nudity, in the mind of short-minded people, can ONLY mean sex, or lust or sin... Not an art representation, not a personal freedom, just something dirty... I say... Could it be that what's really dirty is the repressed desire to do thar very same action they scream against?
Meanwhile, this woman walked the streets like that, without the forbidden signs you see now, that I include to be able to make my point without having my account shut down. If you (or anyone) would have walked around Broadway last Wednesday, you would have had to see her... No place to hide, no forbidden signs, no censorship in real life...
Broadway, Soho,
New York
July 2011
© Sion Fullana
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
DO NOT use or reproduce without my explicit permission. THANKS!
PS: I admit a polite debate about the issue at hand. However, any hateful or insulting comment or disrespectful to the girl in the picture, myself or any other commenter will be deleted and may cause the offender to be blocked/reported
PS 2: If you want to be faithful to this brave woman's statement and see her in all her glory like she intended, feel free to check the uncensored original photo HERE.... but you need to have your account set to be able to see restricted images.
"If I ever have a daughter, I hope she loves her legs."
As a young girl, my legs were one of my biggest insecurities.
I hated how they jiggled when I walked.
I hated that they were constantly covered in bruises and speckled like a strawberry.
I hated the shape of my knees and the circumference of my thighs.
I hated how they looked in skinny jeans and how much larger they were from other girls' legs.
My brain fixated on the way my body appeared, rather than what my body had to offer.
Fast forward to now.
My legs have carried me across the stage at my college graduation. They've walked me down hospital hallways to be with friends in need. They bared my weight as I've knelt down to hug my nieces and nephews. There have been many hikes, dances, and strolls in the park thanks to them.
And I feel like that's what's truly beautiful here.
© 2008 Brittany DeWester, All Rights Reserved. DO NOT under ANY circumstances take my images without my written consent.
I had an assignment to emulate one of my favorite photographers, Lauren Greenfield. I chose to focus on the image that inspired her book "Girl Culture" : artscenecal.com/ArtistsFiles/GreenfieldL/GreenfieldLFile/...
I wanted to tie in the focus on eating disorders and body image, that shows up in both "Girl Culture" and "Thin" so I put this twist on the image. Really I did this last second. I had wanted to do something way better but I ran out of time. What do you guys think? Do you think it reflects her style at all?
Oh and I do realize this is very similar to my "Distorted Reflections" image. and the image was not manipulated in any way other than levels, crop and color balance.
All rights reserved Gilbert Mercier. For eventual publication contact me here.
Drunk Homeless man/ Los Angeles 1986 photo by Gilbert Mercier. Photograph published in Here You Are on 9/25/2017 to illustrate a short story by Michael Lorenzo Porter "Waking Up Dead: How to Survive the Weekday Hangover"
Love yourself; if you don't think you're worthy, how do you expect anyone else to?
If you don't like what you see, change it; otherwise, quit yer bitchin' and accept who you are.
Molly, day 85.
::
When I was pregnant, I would spontaneously burst into giggles and announce "There's a little person in my tummy!" Despite billions of female creatures having been pregnant before I was, and really, it doesn't require brains to get pregnant -- it still blew my mind.
Now, I spontaneously burst into giggles and tell Perla, "You used to live in my tummy!" She smiles and nods, as if to say, "Well, of course."
(In contrast, the other day when I told her that birds eat bugs, she was appalled. She said "Eww!" and shook her head no.)
I mentioned in the previous image that I'm going to continue to complete this 52 week project but I'm not going to try to do copycats for each day.
I much prefer to create my own concepts and images :3
I feel that the media can be very poisonous. I was looking through this old Allure magazine that I found and I swear ever photo is a beautiful skinny girl who's utter perfection. Dare I look in the mirror after reading page after page of beautiful women.
I love reading magazines and media as much as the next person but I really feel like the media can be complete crap.
I was inspired to create this photo. It's basically my view of the media. I love reading it, but it can be very poisonous and harmful...
I feel like people have this warped sense of what beautiful is supposed to look like, and it's impossible to attain.
I have this problem.
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Media images of female beauty are unattainable for all but a very small number of women. Researchers generating a computer model of a woman with Barbie-doll proportions, for example, found that her back would be too weak to support the weight of her upper body, and her body would be too narrow to contain more than half a liver and a few centimeters of bowel. A real woman built that way would suffer from chronic diarrhea and eventually die from malnutrition.
Still, the number of real life women and girls who seek a similarly underweight body is epidemic, and they can suffer equally devastating health consequences.
Beauty and Body Image in the Media.
for FGR and Numberwang.
Preconcieved notions; I'm so sick of people thinking they know who I am. I assure you, they don't. I've sold my soul to very, very few people in this world. They're the only ones who know everything about me (or almost) and therefore, one would assume, the only ones with the right to judge. And yet, there are hundreds of people, people you pass in the street every day, people you work with and casually recognise, and even people who know you as friends, who think they know who you are. They think they understand you, have the right to make decisions for you, can tell you how you're feeling, but they're wrong. I'm sick of being 'that girl'. I'm sick of being someone with a legacy, the girl who___, the one who always ___, isn't she the one who ____? How do you know me? You don't.
Someone told me that they think I'm much more confident than I seem. Than I seem? Do you think I'm not confident? I guess that yeah, in reality, I do tend to act quite coy, and I'm occasionally afraid, but I'll talk to anyone who I believe wants to talk to me, I like being close to people and I like speaking out, I'm not afraid to be wrong. Body image wise, I'm not, nor will I ever be, perfect, and yet I can live with who I am. It doesn't make me unhappy, because there are people around me who accept me for who I am.
At a party, thursday night, a girl I've never properly spoke to stood with me, and she chatted to me. 'I've never been kissed properly', she told me. 'I've just been called frigid, and it hurt.' I know that I barely knew her, but this hit me. "Frigid; without warmth or feeling." How dare they judge this girl? Assume she didn't want to be kissed, or wasn't willing to, or wasn't necessarily any good at it, when they'd never given her ample chance? Unless they'd tried to kiss her (which they hadn't) how could they say such a thing? This girl is beautiful; petite and sweet, friendly and charming, and this guy had ruined her night because he'd judged her. I told her he wasn't worth bothering over, that she'd be the one who'd end up with the happy, trusting relationship and she'd be the one who ended up happy, but I knew how she felt. I've been there. I've been called it to, and to what purpose? The guys that called me it weren't ever worth crying over, they called me allsorts and generally tried to make me unhappy. But not one of them had ever tried being close to me, and yet they thought they had the right to come to such assumptions. I'm not. It's such a hideous belief. I hope karma gets people like them, since they deserve it.
/rant over. It's just so unnessecary.
Today, I was supposed to revise. Instead, I biked a few villages away and sat on a park bench eating ice cream and reading a magazine. Later, I met Ed and we wandered round the local villages taking pictures.
Sorry. I created a tumblr, if you value my sanity you'll follow me, please? :)
My flickr contact, mrwaterslide, has just posted a childhood picture of his friend Becky, from her ballet lessons. So it's inspired me to post this one of myself, which I'd had out already, intending to scan someday.
From age 5 to 6 I took ballet lessons, funnily enough, with a friend named "Becky". Well, I wanted nothing more in my life than to become a ballerina. But, at the end of the year, I was not signed up again. I was crushed. Why? My Mother told me that I only had to try piano lessons for a year. Then I could quit and go back to ballet. Well, I tried to quit, and then I persistently tried again.. I never practiced, and I resented the piano lessons for a long, long time. I wish my Mother had only told me that she couldn't afford the ballet lessons, which was really the heart of the matter. I could have understood, then.
I think things turned out well, though. I've made a comment on mrwaterslide's post regarding appearances, and I have to say that every dancer I know has a unique frame and shape, and too often the professionals end up with eating disorders from all the scrutiny.
So, I am glad I'm not a ballet dancer, after all. Mainly because I don't want to walk like one.. Did you ever see it? They walk like ducks! ;-)
And that's just me, being cheeky... I'll be the first to point out some very obvious flaws in myself, any day!