Why I took a naked selfie at Bondi Beach with 2500 strangers

There are no coffee shops open before 5am in Bondi, let alone 3am, and that was reason enough for me to snooze all three Saturday morning alarms.

Model and writer Tamera Francis.Credit:Polina Bonch-Osmolovskaya

In the Bondi bubble, it’s a scary thought to seize the day without having a dirty almond chai in hand first.

Never have I dipped skinny — or been completely naked in front of more than one person at a time — but maybe in the future I’ll be a little more like last night’s revelers who stumbled to the sand and signed a release form to capture some of what will be the story of an epic night out.

The bubble has seen a lot more of me on Saturday than any Bondi boy. My body image issues and not-so-positive self-talk were lifted with the layers at sunrise and Waverley Council’s temporary Bondi nudist permit. I would like to work on feeling this way more often.

It was cool to be a part of history and be a Spencer Tunick commission, but I exposed everything on Bondi Beach for a greater purpose. That this fusion of art and shock marketing had a purpose that has and will continue to save many lives was reason enough for me.

If I can be a part of something that prevents unnecessary deaths, I will. Even if it means freezing the little tatas I have and dealing with the logistical nightmare herding thousands of non-decaffeinated naked people.

I once said, “I don’t burn, I’m mixed race,” to avoid using the tacky sunscreen that all schools seem to have. It was probably the dumbest thing I’ll ever say.

That day, the universe gave me the worst sunburn I’ve ever experienced. These days I’m obsessed with sunscreen and feel driven to tell anyone who will listen how easy it is to apply.

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