Intro - The Naked Banker

My name is Diego, I am 29 and I live in London.

I moved here from Spain, just out of university, to start a career in Finance. I still work for a big American bank by the way.

After couple years of navigating the dating market in London - more than navigating I would say drawning in the sea of dating apps, the ghosters, the leavers and the undecided - I decided that focusing on me was the right thing to do: Sports, arts, going to the gym, uncool bars, uncool pubs, trying new restaurants in zone 4, watching comedy shows, and travelling, a lot!

This new path led me to the side gig I am going to tell you about: how I became a naked model.

I've always had an exhibitions gene, since I was really young, but my nudism was limited to the occasional nudist beach or sauna, and acts where the other side consented to it.

It was this part of me that led me on a boring morning of February to a Facebook announcement looking for models, life drawing models. The post was written by a guy organizing a session on the first floor of a pub in northeast London.

I thought about the whole idea for 5min - obviously not enough to fully grasp the implications - before commenting "I am available". Two hours later I received a message that sent my pulse racing "Hi Diego, have you done life drawing before? we run a session of 1.5h every Wednesday at the Eagle and the Driver pub from 19.00 to 20.30, let me know if you can confirm for tomorrow".

Adrenaline surged through my veins as I realized the door to an exhilarating adventure had swung wide open; all I had to do was step through, shedding my inhibitions along with my clothes. With a quick flick of my fingers, I spun a tale, claiming past experience as a model in university--a fib to match the allure of the opportunity--and eagerly confirmed my attendance for the following day.

At "end of business day" I rushed out of the office to the closes Marks&Spencer looking for a white bath rob, which in my imagination was the very embodiment of a seasoned model's wardrobe. Disappointed by the lackluster selection in the men's department I had another intuition: venture into the women's section. In fact I found the perfect white bath rob there, just as I imagined it, no patterns, monochrome, short, and for less than 20 quid. Now everything was ready ready for the artistic escapade that awaited me.

The following day dragged on interminably, every passing moment tinged with anticipation for the evening's main event. Thoughts of baring myself before a roomful of strangers consumed my mind, interspersed with frantic online research on posing techniques and etiquette. I was determined to deliver a performance worthy of admiration to this assembly of budding artists.

By the time I was supposed to leave the office and head to the pub I was at peace, my insecurities were reassured by other people's experiences, I had a plan. I arrived at the pub and quickly messaged John "I am here".

John: Come upstairs.

Ascending to the first floor, I found myself greeted by John and his girlfriend, Amy--both a testament to the bohemian allure of the art world. With their inked sleeves, disheveled hair, and an air of nonchalant coolness, they epitomized the avant-garde spirit of the gathering. John wasted no time in briefing me on my role, gesturing towards the makeshift stage as he orchestrated the arrangement of tables. With a nod of assurance, I retreated to the adjacent room to prepare myself.

John: Hi Diego, so, this is where you'll stand and pose (indicating an improvised stage made by a rug), we are putting the tables in place (creating a semi-circle). The room next door is empty, you can change there.

Do you need anything else from us?

Me: Nope, all good!

I moved to the room next door and started undressing. I did twenty or thirty push-ups, I wanted to look strong. Once ready, I put my white rob on.

15 minutes passed and the first ten attendants of the session arrived, I moved back to the room where the class was taking place and started having casual conversations with some of the artists.

After a few minutes the room was almost full, fifteen people were attending the session. I received a thumb up from John, music was playing, the timer was set, rob down and first pose.

John: Let's start with short 30 second poses to warm up.

With each fleeting pose, I surrendered myself to the rhythm of the session, seamlessly transitioning from one stance to the next at John's behest. Time seemed to blur as we progressed from brief, 30-second sketches to more contemplative poses lasting minutes at a stretch. In that hallowed space, stripped bare both literally and metaphorically, I found myself consumed not by self-consciousness, but by a singular focus on delivering a performance worthy of the captive audience before me. And as the room fell silent save for the scratch of pencils on paper, I reveled in the raw, unadulterated thrill of artistic expression.

As the halfway point of the session approached, two slender Asian girls walked in, their attire exuding a daring artistic flair. With only one vacant seat, one of them settled on the floor near my feet.

I persevered through my poses, some proving to be questionable choices that tested my endurance with cramps and numb fingers. Despite the urge for a break, I pressed on, determined to see it through.

The session dragged on for another 45 minutes, with two lengthy poses demanding creative strategies to maintain focus. I mentally escaped into memories of past football matches, organizing my schedule, and even compiling a grocery list to stave off boredom. The final pose, accompanied by the playful tune of "I was dancing in the lesbian bar," brought a moment of enjoyment before the bell signaled the end.

As I prepared to dress and depart, I took a moment to review the artwork and collect feedback from the artists and John. Amidst the impressive drawings, it was evident that talent knows no bounds.

Just as I was about to leave, one of the Asian girls caught my arm. Showering me with compliments on my poses and physique, they extended an invitation for a beer. And so, my unexpected adventure began...