REAL BODIES
Artist and model Angel Ito, 43, is bored by society’s obsession with perfection, and says you’ll only soar once you’ve embraced your body — flaws and all
Artist and model Angel Ito spreads his wings
Growing up, I had an amazing mother who nurtured my wacky creative impulses and boosted my confidence at every turn – probably because everyone always thought I was a girl. It was clear that she loved having a gay son and her validation was everything. She made me feel invincible.
I first started modelling while training t o be a dancer. People seemed to be intrigued by my androgyny and gender fluidity, but I wasn’t pushing the labels – I was just doing my thing, being comfortable in my skin. I quickly became something of a go- to for artists who thought I blurred the lines in interesting ways, and developed as an artist in my own right.
I’m very comfortable posing naked. I didn’t grow up with feelings of shame and negativity when it came to nudity, so it’s never been an issue for me. That being said, you quickly realise how society at large views nudity – as a secret pleasure or a public shame – and so as not to offend, you adapt. Expressing yourself through art gives you licence to utilise your body and it came naturally to me.
I’m quietly confident with my body. Somehow, at 43, I still have the body and build I had at 18. It has been featured on magazine covers and even walked its way into London Fashion Week last year.
The thing is, I never fitted the beauty standards the world put before me. Quite early on, I stopped paying attention to something that obviously didn’t apply and crafted the person I wanted to be, and worked with what I had. It was freeing to know that I was different, or that I was seen as an oddity.
Coming from a country of Hollywood smiles, my biggest insecurity, if anything, is my smile. I have a gap in between my front teeth, an overbite and a chipped tooth. I also have a slightly malformed ear and varicose veins are starting to appear.
But honestly, I do not give a fuck. I like imperfections in others and I have learned to love my own. Somewhere along the line, I started to accept all of me, and in my experience, every time you push past an insecurity, you end up conquering it.
We live in a progressive yet polarised time when it comes to the body. Most people’s relationships with bodies outside of their own are consumed via unrealistic fashion icons and hyper- sexualised, seemingly custom- made porn models.
My body has always been a part of my work and I run towards any opportunity to share it in the name of art, if only to diversify and correct the balance. I didn’t see people like me represented, so I wanted to change that.
Don’t get me started about “Instagram bodies”. It’s discouraging. I’d write a book on it but I don’t want to give it any of my time, and hope our collective social media society quickly grows past this point in its evolution. So many filter- laden, cataloguecurated lives and everyone gets sucked in. Fakeness is now currency.
I find it boring, but the real danger is that to many it can be extremely damaging, because it takes a lot of work to maintain a healthy perspective of your body as you grow. This just muddies the water. It’s unfair to let people feel like they don’t measure up.
There are many social revolutions aiming for inclusion and equality these days, but I think we also need to keep examining the concept of “beauty privilege”. The queer and wider communities have long grumbled about the success and quick inclusion of many simply because they have impeccable bodies, to- die- for fashion and the wallets for every nip and tuck. Sadly, we’ve come to accept it at the expense of a wider, more varied and more realistic story.
I have a wavering fascination and revulsion of modern society and the state of the world. The more I look back over my work, the theme that seems to jump out at me is of the individual trying to survive the noisy pollution of society, and its mile- aminute mixed messages about how you should be, or how to feel.
We are all multi- faceted miracles, and we can be satisfied, proud even, to be whatever the culmination of all that is. All of our bodies, our stories and expressions have value and the power to inspire. If I didn’t believe that, I couldn’t do what I do.
I put myself out there with my body and my experience, neither is perfect, but they’re real. It’s my deepest truth, my quiet revolution, my fascination and gratitude at what it means to be alive, and how life shapes us.
If nothing else, I hope it communicates a common humanity, an honesty in an increasingly fake world.
@ aitoart
“I like imperfections in others and I have learned
to love my own”