We all remember calendar girls – back then the naked calendar was somewhat taboo. Yet now everyone seems to be doing them. A great way to make money, especially as it gives everyone the chance to have a giggle – even if it is at your own expense.
So of course on Saturday morning I found myself walking in the torrential rain to the University Students Union to bare all for charity. At about 10.22am I am beginning to question why I agreed to this, however at this point I was already there – so turning back was no longer an option. Radio broadcast on the other hand was.
In my bag were two cuddly toys to cover my lady parts, thankfully they were large enough for the task despite my failure to check beforehand. Before I knew what was going on the clothes were off and poses were being struck. A fairly liberating experience yet intensely bizarre – one of those things to cross of the bucket list, even if like me, you’re not 100% sure it was on there in the first place. One more thing tried, one less thing to do, one more thing to be embarrassed about!
Schubert and Sergei used to cover my lady parts
Despite the embarrassing laugh I had at my own expense, talking to others I found that some people are certainly not keen on the naked calendar idea. T would seem there are concerns that people would be intimidated by others bodies and perhaps bullying would occur. In my mind this is not the case. We’re not posing for page 3 after all – you can’t see anything, in my own experience two cuddly toys were covering my top half whilst Bridget Jones style knickers were covering everything else – so very far from sexy, I’m hardly going to be the centrefold of next weeks playboy magazine!
Concerns aside the naked calendar continues to be a money maker and popular fundraiser for charities. If people will buy the calendars and people will take part in them – why not?
Has the naked calendar had its day? Do they promote the wrong ideas about body image? Or are they just a great fundraising idea and a bit of a laugh?
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Its 20:26, I’m sat at my desk staring blankly at a pile of books I have to read for my dissertation, the culmination of three years at university: The dreaded project, that compulsory 10,000 word monster. Unfortunately for me any interest I had in the subject prior to taking up a degree in it, has been bashed out of me and replaced by a feeling of contempt. I look at that pile books and begin to feel physically sick. Ok maybe that is an exaggeration, but a feeling of foreboding is mostly certainly coming over me!
I do a history degree, I tell people this and the response often is something along the lines of ‘so … are you going to become a teacher?’ My answer … ‘no, I’m bloody not!’ A weeks worth of work experience in school certainly scared me off for life – the children, the screaming, the chaos! I just don’t have the patience.
The other question I frequently get asked is ‘you don’t like your course – A £30,000 debt at the end of it is a lot isn’t it?’ Yes of course it’s a lot, but even though History is NOT my cup of tea, nor is it my future career I wouldn’t change a thing. University is a fantastic middle step, I’ve experienced my independence and I love it. I’ve also had the chance to experience things, realistically I would have probably never experienced had I gone straight to work – Radio, Journalism and of course pole dancing (the fitness kind NOT the prancing around in no clothes kind!) And I’ve made some of the best friends I’ve had in my life.
So now that its 22:58 and I am no further with that pile of dissertation reading, but however much I don’t like history, reading or writing essays: I have gained so much from university, I’ve found out who I am. Something I’m not sure I could have done not going. So £30,000 debt I’ll take you (and try not to think about it until I have to pay it back) You only live once after all, I’m not the next David Starkey or female historian (insert name here) but so what? You have to try something first to find out whether you like it or not.
Now come on dissertation, its 23:23 … You don’t like me and I don’t like you but let’s crack on!
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