Daphne in Florence, Italy, pt. 4

Here’s the link to the images:

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B7MlCEoEDaftYUZPdGl6bnZBbzA

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DAPHNE IN FLORENCE, ITALY

Despite what so many Americans may think, finding models in Europe, especially ones willing to be naked, is EXTREMELY difficult. I doubt women were ever just ripping off their clothes for any camera-holding passerby, but yes, generally speaking, Europeans in general have a much less conservative view of sexuality. Still, that doesn’t mean they are just going to strip for you, or anyone.

My European friends have told me that recently there is a current wave of conservationism stretching across the younger generations in Europe for a variety of regional reasons, and in general, it’s a bummer. Still, thanks to having a large following online I was able to cast a wide net and found several photographers who were willing to help share the names of women to work with. Unfortunately, very few were willing to take their clothes off. Including Daphne, who through the grapevine I had arranged to have come to our Airbnb.

I had specifically rented this particular Airbnb because of how it looked. Bookcases reaching to the ceiling, large chandeliers, everything in dark, stained wood, and large windows that looked centuries old. Most of the buildings in the area were definitely older than anything in my home town, and we were only about a fifteen minute cab ride from the old downtown of Florence Da Vinci would have been incredibly familiar with.

The afternoon of Daphne’s arrival I sequestered my mom and aunt into their rooms, which they were fairly okay with since the heat outside was stifling and their rooms were relatively cool. Dahne showed up, uncertain if this was the right place, and I showed her around, making her laugh as much as I could as she struggled with her broken English. Thankfully, by “broken English” I mean she could still hold a better conversation in English than most Americans I know.

She was incredibly nervous, having never even posed in lingerie before, but she said she trusted me and was eager to try. We laid out the things on my bed while she admired the massive chandelier above our heads, then, once our outfits had been picked out, she went and politely changed in the bathroom. One Italian photographer I had been contacted by online sang her praises, talking about her the way I do about my favorite local models, but another Italian photographer that I know very well had warned me that she could be a diva that only wants the fame and followers that come with more established camera men.

Thankfully, I didn’t experience any bad vibes from her. She was warm and sweet the entire hour or so we shot. Though she was nervous about showing her body off, she trusted me and I made her feel as relaxed as my broken (read: non-existent) Italian could. Also, I was fascinated by her career choice. She was currently in the last years f her university studies of analyzing old manuscripts from anywhere between the years 1200-1600. “I am…eh…sorry I am so…pale….I spend all time at the library. I stare at manuscripts all day and…eh…never go out and see sunlight.”

I told her it was fine, that I both liked pale skin and bookish women, and she laughed at that enough to make me uncertain of whether she believed me or not. I kept her laughing as much as possible as we moved all around the large apartment, shooting in the bedroom, the hallways, dining area, and finally the living room. Some of the scenes before me, with her tan skin oiled up, were like dreams I’d had since I was a boy, and I couldn’t help but be overcome with excitement. She laughed even more at me when I’d show her the photos on the back of the camera, squealing like a child at how good it had turned out. I had spent months planning these shoots, the locations, hunting for models, saving the money, not to mention arranging for the comfort and ease of travel for my mom and aunt, and now, finally, I had achieved me goals. Like most creative people, I doubt my choices considerably, but I also trust myself. And at this moment, I allowed myself to feel a rare burst of genuine pride in what I had pulled off.

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 Did you like my Florence images and my story about Daphne? Would you like to see more of my travel images? COMMENT BELOW! You can always send me your feedback, positive or negative, to my DMs! And thank you as always for your continued support, it means the world to me!

Here’s that link again:

 https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B7MlCEoEDaftYUZPdGl6bnZBbzA