Working in the buff

I once agreed to work with a photographer who creates amazing stories in still photographs, using actors, acrobats, dwarfs and models in wonderful costumes- or naked.
My body was my costume in this case, but I assumed I would be painted with white body paint.
This was news to the makeup artist however, who spent 20 minutes applying pale face makeup to my entire body with a minuscule sponge.
It was exciting and liberating being the only fully nude "statue" in this display of decadently clad array of aristocrats and belly dancers, and I didn't even feel cold.
My only complaint is that I never received a decent print from the session, as the rights have now been sold to the publishers of his book.

More recently, I had a nude casting at Glyndebourne opera, for "Die Fledermaus".
They wanted a girl who would feel comfortable throwing her clothes off at the climax of a debauched party scene, with her back to the audience, followed by chucking her champagne glass over her shoulder.
No problem, I thought, and was excited to get down to the last two.
But despite my unquestioningly superior ballroom dancing skills, the job went to the other girl. I was crushed, especially as the panel (the director and a female assistant) had just seen me in all my glory, and rejected me in favour of a girl with bigger boobs!
She was taken into wardrobe and I got the bus back to the station with the other rejects.
Not nice.