Monday, August 25, 2014

here be (not really) naked pictures

As you may have heard via my Instagram account, this blog post, or my twitter account, in July Erica and I did something really stupid, even by our super social softball league standards. We bought Groupons (already you should see red flags) for a photo session at Glamour Shots (bright red flags everywhere). But it turns out that I didn't pay much attention to the fine print of the Groupon and the deal was not for your typical headshot session, it was for a bourdoir session. (can you see anything besides red at this point?)

So, after much laughing until I was crying, Erica and I buckled down and decided to treat this session with as much sarcasm as we could muster. In her case that meant pictures dressed in a flannel shirt and Wayne's World hat and for me Google Glass, a Captain America shirt, and jparks' gaming headphones. We were also told to bring our husband's favorite coffee mug, which confused me. I mean I keep 2.5 gallons of iced coffee in my fridge at all times and even I don't know how a coffee mug equals sexy. But being a rule follower, I grabbed a Star Wars mug and packed it into the bags of props I had ready to go.
Are you incredibly turned on right now? I'm sorry, blame Vader.

The whole situation was pretty ridiculous in ways that even my "imagine every possible negative outcome" brain couldn't imagine. The photo taking part was actually less horrifying than I had prepared myself for but after that was over, and the salesgirls thankfully let Erica and me put back on real clothes, they sat us in a room which was delightfully decorated and just left us there. For a really, really long time. I still get nervous sweats just thinking about that damn "living room" and all the tasteful photograph options displayed.
 Don't forget, it's not too late to get that Glamour Shots credit card you've always dreamed about. 
 We were really having a great time, as I'm sure you can tell from this picture. 

After hours and hours and the hardest sell I've ever experienced, our freedom was finally bought and we were allowed to rejoin society. A few weeks later the three final images from my session arrived and I spent the rest of that day staring at them wondering exactly how much photoshopping it took to make my legs so fake. Also, are my legs really so bad off that they had to take pity on me and do free retouching, something they usually charge quite a bit for? Should I be more concerned than I am? What do you know Glamour Shots, that you aren't telling me?

That's a lot of build up for three images that really aren't much of anything. They aren't funny in the way that Glamour Shots from the early 1990s are. They aren't overly ridiculous like some of Glamour Shots boudoir pictures are. Don't get me wrong, they are ridiculous, but in a "You invested how much time, energy, and money into this?!?" sort of way.

Have I sufficiently built up and then crushed your expectations? Perfect, that's right where I want you.

I have no real way to close this except to say hello to all the new parents from preschool and kindergarten who have Googled me and landed here. Good luck looking me in the eye at Back to School night.

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