Stepping Way the F* Out of my Comfort Zone: Boudoir Photoshoot

A Story

All photos on this page were taken by Mina Rosenberg https://www.boudoirbymina.com

I pulled into a parking lot on a sunny October evening somewhere near Littleton, CO, already feeling like I was about to break out in hives. I’d been nervous on the hour-long drive from Idaho Springs, alternating between questioning all my life choices thus far and trying to convince myself that I was some sort of badass stepping into her empowerment. All while the radio blasted rock music, of course.

What I didn’t know when I’d booked the group photoshoot was that the location was very much in public. With people around. Lots of them. It was at a park that I couldn’t tell you the name of, with a handful of rustic buildings that made for the perfect backdrop for pictures. It was clear that my group wouldn’t be the only one there.

I pulled into one of the few open spaces in the enormous parking lot and gave myself a reverse pep talk. You don’t even have to get out of the car. You could stay in here, blissfully safe, and turn back around and go home and hug your dog.

I sat there a moment observing my surroundings. People were climbing in and out of cars, some in 4-inch heels. Many of the girls looked teenaged and wore formal, sparkly dresses, I assume for homecoming. Lyrics from my own high school days came to mind: “His palms are sweaty / knees weak, arms are heavy.”

I really don’t like posing for pictures

The camera is not my friend. I’m really awkward in front of it. I grimace when I think I’m smiling. My head goes back a few inches, leaving me with about 18 more chins than what I really have. My shoulders get stiff and high and I don’t know what to do with my arms, so I just kind of stand there, like a creepy refrigerator.

But in spite of that, I had signed up for this photoshoot anyway. One reason was that it was no ordinary boudoir shoot–it was a group Halloween-themed one, where we were going to wear pumpkins on our heads. Which would eliminate the chins and grimacing problem for me. I felt confident that with a photographer’s guidance, I could manage to do actual poses, as long as I had a pumpkin on my head so that my face wouldn’t ruin it all.

Time to face the music

Well, I thought. I might as well get out. I didn’t have my photoshoot clothes on just yet, so I knew no one would be looking at me. I grabbed my pumpkin and headed to the entrance.

My pumpkin, which I nicknamed “Biblically accurate pumpkin,” was made of styrofoam, had 8 eyes, and was sparkly. Now, almost a month later, I still have it and light it up every night.

Many of the formal dresses the homecoming girls had on were very short, I noticed, much shorter than what would have been allowed at my school. My boudoir outfit might have been a teeny bit shorter, but not much. That made me feel a little better.

A woman, who happened to be the photographer, saw me holding my pumpkin head and asked me if I was there for the photoshoot. I nodded yes. There was already one other woman waiting, and a few more were on their way.

One by one, we all showed up. There was a wide array of pumpkinheads–including a solid black one and a heart-eyed one. Mine was the only sparkly one. We lined them all in a row while our photographer called us one by one for solo shots before the group shots.

I decided to go back to my car to change. Fleeting thoughts went through my head–mainly related to driving away like a madwoman and never looking back. But I marched on.

My outfit consisted of a lacy black onesie and a short robe I’d found at a sex shop I’d randomly driven by. The onesie was completely see-through except for the crotch area, and I wore a bra to avoid going to jail. I also had cool spiderweb fishnets and patent Doc Marten platform boots to complete the look.

I struggled and sweated in the back seat of my car trying to put all my garb on. High schoolers were walking by the whole time. I stayed crouched and fought with polyester and lace until I finally had the damn thing on.

I stepped out of my car, yanked and tugged in all the right places, and began my walk of shame, no, empowerment, back to the group.

Well, I wish I could say it was empowering. Instead, it was just uncomfortable. I kept tugging at my rear end and looking down my front to make sure I wasn’t exposed. I wasn’t feeling a confidence boost just yet.

No one batted an eye as I walked across the parking lot. I mean, it wasn’t like I was walking around naked or anything. I had my robe closed and it (barely) covered my butt. I definitely made the situation worse in my mind than it really was.

Back at the group, it was almost time for my solo session. Time to shine, or something like it. Sparkle?

I watched a woman pose who had clearly done photoshoots before. Her poses were effortless and exuded grace and confidence. She was like an ethereal, pumpkin-headed angel with her willowy stature and gliding ease.

And then it was my turn

I tried not to feel discouraged as I followed in her footsteps. I made my way across what felt like a vast expanse of land to the barn where we were shooting and prepared to strut my stuff.

Our photographer had brought a spare robe that was longer than mine and gave Stevie Nicks vibes so I wore it for some of the shots.

Then I got really comfortable with the longer robe.

A little too comfortable.

I kept it on until the rest of the (very encouraging) group later yelled at me to take it off. In fact, those were their exact words Imagine, if you will, a group of half-naked women wearing pumpkin heads yelling “Take it off!”

Not bad, right?

I had watched a hundred TikToks on how to pose, but I forgot every one of them in the moment. Thankfully, our photographer helped me feel a little more at ease and helped me with my posing.

And once I got into the posing, though, everyone around seemed to disappear. After all, this was legit. We had a professional photographer shooting pictures of some super sexy pumpkin-headed models. My fear of being named an “Influencer in the Wild” evaporated. This was REAL.

And really, no one was staring. I’m often self-conscious when taking photos in public when I’m by myself. But really there’s no reason to be at all.

For some of the pictures, I took the pumpkin off my head. Even those didn’t turn out too bad.

Not the worst!

All Together

After everyone’s solo shots, it was time for the group shots. We each struck a pose using the tricks our photographer (alien suit below) had shown us earlier.

Could it be? It certainly looks like we were all having fun!

I got more comfortable as time went on. I began to imagine myself as a spooky model rather than a mid-30’s corporate worker. I felt defiant. Otherworldly, even. I imagined the photos indicative of my creative personality. With fishnets and a pumpkin on my head, this was ME.

I don’t know how empowered or confident I felt, but I felt…something. A baby step, perhaps.

As the sun went down, the photoshoot came to an end. We were the last ones in the park. Our photographer gave us each a mini bottle of rosé and a jar of bath salts as a gift and we all went off on our separate ways.

On the walk back to my car, I had a slight swagger in my step. Slight. I was glad I hadn’t run away like I wanted to at first. I kept my sexy outfit on, put the pumpkin head on the passenger seat, and drove back home, just like I hadn’t done anything special. Like I was returning home from a grocery run.

Final Thoughts

Sometimes solo traveling means getting comfortable with being uncomfortable.

What if, though, instead of hurrying to get out of an uncomfortable situation, we stay for a minute and get comfortable there? I know that every time the phone rings, I try to rush off the call because I despise talking on the phone.

But what does it really hurt?

Sometimes instead of fighting to get out of the mud, it’s more rewarding to stay awhile and play in it.