Fashion Magazine

The Empowerment of a Self-Portrait

By Citizenrosebud @citizenrosebudz

The Empowerment of a Self-Portrait
One of the most empowering acts I've done for myself in recent years, has been to take my own pictures. Of the many perks of being a personal style blogger, the most powerful opportunity I've afforded myself has been by planting MY face, MY body and MY style in front of, and behind the camera.


On April 9th, 2010 I published my first full-body outfit post taken with my then new digital camera and tripod. That post, entitled "In Full Bloom," was a milestone for me. I got to present myself to the world in the way I wanted the world to see me. My skills as a photographer have improved vastly since then, and while more and more I'm preferring the role of photographer to that of model, I intend to continue to put myself in front of the camera. Because for me, as a woman, it is the ultimate act of empowerment.
The Empowerment of a Self-Portrait
Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say and not giving a damn.   -Gore Vidal
The Empowerment of a Self-Portrait In a world where women are constantly being fed images of how they should dress, what they should wear, what size they should be, and how they should look, I've created a space in which I present myself to the world with my vernacular of of being: I know who I am, and what I want to be. I don't need the dictates of strangers telling me the who, what or wears of fashion. 
The Empowerment of a Self-Portrait
I AM FASHION, thank you very much- I AM STYLE.  By taking my own portraits, I control my image- this is the way I choose to show myself, and having taken control of my image, I have a say on how others see me and by extension how I wish to be treated.  The Empowerment of a Self-Portrait It seems that a woman is supposed to turn invisible after they turn 40. No longer nubile ingenues, the tabula raza now filled with an alphabet of our lives lived- our florid histories indelibly etched on our faces, tied into the knots of our hands, and in my case, slathered onto my maddeningly thickening middle. When a woman comes adorned with her arabesques of adventures, it is no longer seems possible to be the blank slate for society's version of an idealized woman.  My life is poured all over me: so why would I begrudge my scars, my wrinkles, my laugh-lines? My body has become a house of souvenirs of my experiences. And I can promise you, this old girl has no intention of fading into a background- I love the center too much, and you can bet your tschokies that I'll never be seen faded into some mousy pea-hen muu-muu and practical shoes, a sure sign of a woman given up. I refuse to be invisible. And, my friends, what better way to see and be seen than controlling the view? I take my own pictures. I am at once the artist and her muse. My art is my message: I know who I am, and what I want to say, and I don't give a damn. 
All photos in this blog are taken by me, unless otherwise noted.

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