Today marks the beginning of the eleventh month of the Year of Denim.
To celebrate I shed ALL my clothes at the Spencer Tunich photo shoot down at the Opera House this morning. By morning I mean I got up at 3.15am to make it down there by 4am. Now I’m fucked, fagged, exhausted and thankfully reclothed.
It’s funny how Sydney has been So hot, SO humid and this morning was (relatively) cold. The one night I would love it to be 24 degrees and dripping with slimy sweatiness, it’s a southerly blowing, grey, overcast and cool.
Back to nudity.
Spencer Tunick was invited to Sydney by Sydney’s Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras to create a work at the Opera House.
The photo shoot was unexpectedly a very moving and beautiful experience, but also funny. All that massed flesh was a spectacle for sure, and being IN that mass of flesh was so, well, normal.
Many people were having a little performance anxiety at the beginning, but when half the crowd stripped and the other half clapped and cheered the carnival atmosphere took over and it was a joy to be naked.
The best part was being nude inside the Opera House’s concert hall, an experience it is VERY unlikely I’ll ever get to repeat. I can imagine, for instance, streaking up the Opera House steps. But unless I one day go totally insane, I cannot imagine ever again standing on a Concert Hall seat, nude, draped and looking down on a literal carpet of nude bodies on the stage.
There were a few annoying wags in the audience, cracking bad jokes, and one man did have to be evicted for being a bit revolting. Otherwise I only saw a single lone erection and people were very well behaved, but also kind, respectful and joyful.
I respected Spencer Tunick’s request for no photos once clothes were off, though I was in the minority, so I only have fully clad photos. If you want a voyeuristic view of the morning through mass media’s fully clothed eyes, click here…
Here’s my pic, but it sort of looks like a rock concert, smoke machine and all, on the Opera House Steps…
And so I admit I was in public without ANY denim or ANY clothes on at all. Arrest me if you like for breaking the Year of Denim rules, but I am glad to have experienced an amazing and sublime nude spectacle.
Top: Joe’s Jeans jacket. But I got cold and could have done with something more thermally inclined
Bottom: Cos I’m lazy and getting out of bed at 3.15am to make any fashion decisions is beyond me, same jeans as last night… Levi’s flares
Accessory: Denim holder bag, same as last night, too tired/busy/lazy to unpack and choose another
I will now spend some quality time recovering. Maybe in front of the tele (that’s TV not Daily Telegraph), maybe in or on bed, or perhaps an assortment of positions will be struck ala Spencer Tunick’s photo shoot this morning.