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Wednesday, 01 November 2006

Two-piece tyranny

Here I was in Brazil, trying to look awesome. And at least in my own mind, I was failing miserably. I had to face up to one of my worst fears: wearing a bikini for a scene in a movie.

Ok, so I'm not unpleasant to look at, but bikinis need work. The prospect of my bits and pieces overflowing into unsightly lumps had me waking up screaming. For the first time in my life, I was acting like John. Picking up my shirt to check my tummy after every salad.

Well, it got me working out, and despite the reassurances of the entire team, I continued to feel ugly and fat. For three days before the shoot, I was eating only oranges. Apparently, every other known item on God’s menu can cause pudgy bits on a girl.

I had a comfortable crew, three girls and a gay man. I told all of them to stay out of my sight when they ate anything. On the day of the shoot, I needed a little solidarity. By which, I meant, all the girls in my crew had to wear bikinis too.

Anyway, it was the most surreal morning in my trailer. All of us in bikinis, agonizing about . . . my body. And they say it’s just a job.

Well, the shots went well. I was cavorting about the entire day for the cameras, but all I could think of was lunch. I haven’t looked at anything as lovingly as the meal I had, seconds after the last shot was canned.

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