Over Exposed: a (maybe) true story

[Pantzlurkington]

"I'm sorry, no outside clothes are allowed."

It was the first time I'd had the chance to photograph gymnastics – something I'd really wanted to do for a while. Up til then, I'd shot lots of different sports: hockey, volleyball, tennis, wrestling. But never gymnastics. Finally I'd found a college gymnastics program and, after a series of emails, managed to set up a time when I could come in and take some cool shots of the gymnasts doing their thing.

And that's when I got thrown a curve ball.

I arrived at the college's main athletic facility, found my way to the gym, and was greeted by one of the coaches, a youngish woman in a bright track suit and sneakers. She took one look at my jeans, hiking boots, and jacket, my big camera bag slung off my shoulder, and before I could even introduce myself as the photographer, she said,

"I'm sorry, no outside clothes are allowed."

Okay. This was actually not that unusual. A lot of teams didn't let outside shoes into the locker rooms, for instance. My favorite women's hockey team even had a big shelf in the hallway outside their room, where the girls' regular footwear sat during games. I'd often try to figure out who wore the Blundstones, and who belonged to the sexy 'do me' boots with the big chunky heels.

But all outside clothes? Well, that was definitely taking it another step or two.

"I... no one mentioned that in our emails," I stammered.

"Well they should have!" said the young coach.

"Okay, right," I said. "But here I am, and I don't have any other clothes."

The coach shrugged. "Well, look, we're pretty strict about gym attire. Our gymnasts are here in leotards or singlets, they're barefoot, we're trying to keep outside mud and such from being tracked in."

"I can understand that," I said. "But surely if I take off my boots..." the coach rolled her eyes.

"Look," she sighed. "Everything from outside brings in gross dirt. Cat hair. Subway grease. We just got fed up with having to deal with it. Now, everyone who comes in brings extra gym clothes, and leaves their outside clothes here at the front. I'm sorry, but we don't make exceptions." She stared at me with a look that said 'and that's final!'

I thought about this for a minute. You're probably expecting me to say, 'okay, well, see you another time.' But in sports photography, you never know when you're going to get another time. Every opportunity to shoot is a potential "amazing shot" moment. And I wasn't prepared to give that up. Especially for a sport I'd never had the chance to shoot before.

"So, it's just my outside clothes that are the issue?" I said.

"Yes. You can't wear any of that in here."

"Okay," I said. "Terms accepted."

There was a long bench beside the entrance, where the various gymnasts and coaches had piled their outside jackets, boots, and so forth before going on to the gym mats. I unslung my camera bag, unzipped my jacket and placed it on the bench, then pulled my sweater over my head and placed it on top of the jacket.

"What..." the coach said. "What are you... I thought you said you didn't bring gym clothes!"

"I didn't," I said as I pulled off my boots, stuck them under the bench, then swiftly pulled my pants down around my ankles and stepped out of them.

"But what are you... just what do you think you're..." The coach couldn't find the words. An amused little smile fought with a look of complete surprise on her face. "Are you seriously undressing?!!"

By then I'd pulled my t-shirt over my head and placed it on the pile with my other clothes.

"Look, you said I couldn't come in wearing outside clothes," I said as I pulled each of my socks off (it'd be less slippery on the mats without them). Then I picked up my camera bag and looked directly at the coach. "Fine. Now I'm not wearing outside clothes."

That was definitely true. Aside from the camera bag slung over my shoulder, I had nothing on but a pair of snug little heart-print boxer briefs. And yes, I did feel very, very exposed. Thankfully it was warm in the gym.

The coach's eyes were wide. Her jaw dropped. Behind her, from around the various gymnastics bars and beams, I could see several of the women and men gymnasts start to notice what was going on. They nudged each other and pointed, with various looks of surprise and amusement.

"Now this is not... this is very irregular," the gym coach finally said. She looked quickly left and right, hoping for someone to intercede. Despite her attempt to stay serious, a smile kept sneaking in. She couldn't help but stare at my underwear, and completely forgot about looking me in the eye.

"Look, I'm not that much differently dressed than your gymnasts," I said. Although in her track suit and sneakers, the coach was very much more clothed than I was. "You said no outside clothes. I'm not wearing outside clothes. Now, how about I go take some photos?"

Without even waiting for a response, I walked confidently past the stunned coach, pulling my camera out of my bag, and took a look around the room.

Every gymnast in the place was staring at me.

Some smiled. Some had hands over their mouths as they giggled. Some just stood, open mouthed. I won't lie, it was awkward. But I was committed. There was nothing for it but to dive in, head first.

I walked over to a balance beam, where several girls in leotards were standing.

"Hi," I said as I crouched down and held my camera ready. "This a good spot?"

The girls all exchanged glances, giggling a bit as they looked at me in my little heart-print undies.

"Hi..." a couple girls said from behind their smiles. "You're the photographer?..." I mean, sure, it was obvious, but what do you say to a guy in his underpants when you're trying to be cool? A few others smiled and shook their heads, as if to say," you certainly are bold!"

But, after that awkward few minutes, the gymnasts got over the surprise of seeing a photographer in his silly underwear, and got back to their training. The coach from the front entrance had even recovered her shock, accepted that I wasn't going anywhere, and got back to directing the gymnasts.

"Okay people," she called. "Let's see some focus!" Which was kind of funny since she kept stealing glances at me.

But you know what? After a while, I kind of got used to it. Gymnasts were definitely looking at me the whole time, and there was still some smiling and giggling. But they could see I was serious about getting good shots, and their own outfits were fairly revealing too. So we were basically all in it together.

Plus, no clothes meant I had more flexibility to crouch and bend (believe me, after a while, your knees notice). It was just warm enough to be comfortable in my bare skin. I even enjoyed the feel of my toes on the gym mats.

I'll be honest. Shooting in my underwear was fun. And I bet if you asked all the gymnasts, they didn't mind one bit!

Once the training wrapped up and we were all back at the front bench, putting our clothes back on, I even got the usual questions. Did you get good shots? Where can we see the results?

So in the end, it was worth it. I even got invited back. And no one mentioned anything about what to wear!

PS: I took a selfie as proof this happened. Or did it?
Anyway you can see it here on my DA page: https://www.deviantart.com/pantzlurking ... 1000830680

[Robert Brooks]

Fun story!