Don’t Tell Me I Can’t… become a life model

Susie Mason explains how she learned to accept her body...

Standing in the middle of the room, I turn around to face the audience. Completely naked, without even a fig leaf covering my modesty, I can feel people staring at me, looking at every inch of my body. now, this is probably the bit where – in most dreams – you wake up. only I can’t – because this isn’t a dream, nor is it a nightmare. I’ve actually chosen to bare all. and, while most people raise their eyebrows, at the age of 50, I love being a life model.

I’ve not always been so confident in my own skin. Growing up, with a slim, boyish figure, I couldn’t see anything special about my body. In my twenties, at work as a PA, I’d wear anything that might give me a bit more shape – big belts, shoulder pads, you name it. Then, in January 1992, I met Tony. He seemed to like me just the way I was. We got married two years later and, after giving up work, in March 2001 our twin boys Scott and Harry were born.

Discovering my passion

Of course, pregnancy changed everything. I was still a slim size 8, but my tummy was soft and I hated how my C-section scar stood out (although I’ll admit I did like my new C-cup boobs!) But it wasn’t just the way I looked that was different, the way I felt was too. As the years passed, while I loved being a mother, I hated that my own identity seemed to have vanished. I’d been taking the boys to art galleries and I realised I had a real passion for it. So, every night before bed, I’d read about all about the greats – from Matisse to Rodin. Then, one afternoon, in 2009, I saw an article about artist modelling. It talked about how fulfilling it was to be a part of the art community, helping students and artists. I started looking into becoming a model – at the time, one who kept their clothes on! – and finally went for an audition to join the Register of Artist Models in 2012.

For the next few months, I applied for jobs modelling for portraits. Then, aged 48, I went through the menopause. It was early, but while I know a lot of women would dread the change, I found myself embracing it. And it gave me a surge of confidence I’d never had before.

Until then I’d been too self-conscious to pose nude, but after seeing an ad I decided, ‘Why not?’ Tony was a little shocked – after all, he’d been used to hearing me complain about my stretch marks. But he was overjoyed I’d found an interest I loved. My friends thought I was mad. But it was something I felt I had to do. So, I put my name forward and, a few weeks later, I went along to the local hall. There were a handful of people of all ages, both men and women, sitting with sketch books and pencils poised.

As I peeled off my robe, I felt so nervous – and holding a cross-legged pose for an hour wasn’t easy. But instead of thinking about the multiple sets of eyes staring at my body, I quickly found myself switching off – and mastered the art of meditation.

Since then, I’ve posed for artists and students. Thankfully, no one I know has walked into the class yet. But actually, I feel like I’d be able to laugh it off – I feel so comfortable now. I’m not in it for the money – I make £20 per hour, but I do it because it makes me feel good. I used to worry about every lump, bump and dimple on my body, but not any more.

‘it makes me feel Good’