May Have Just Blown That One... Wednesday, September 16

I came, I saw, I left -- that pretty much sums up today's photo shoot which would have been all super dandy if it weren't for the fact that no photos were actually taken.

Yup, you read right.

I arrived at the change of location they had notified me about just last night.  It meant I had to take the morning off of boxing.  Anyways, so I showed up early, wide eyed and bushy tailed for the photo shoot.  Coffee in one hand, a gym bag full of my boxing gear in the other.  I greeted the photographer and then went sent over to make-up.  About 30 minutes and a zillion of layers later, I was then looking like a sexy vixen and escorted to a change room. 

"Your wardrobe is in here", the assistant told me.

I entered the change room, turned to see what my wardrobe was and then as fast I had entered the change room I was then leaving it. 

The wardrobe consisted of a boxing uniform robe -- a beautiful silk hooded robe that often boxers walk into the ring wearing eight before they fight.  One problem though, that was the only article of clothing in the changeroom, in my "wardrobe".  Turns out there wasn't in fact anything missing, that WAS my entire wardrobe because the idea behind the shoot was that of a sexy boxer.

Me sexy?! Ya, right.  Don't kid yourself.

Sitting on the edge of a boxing ring with my legs wide open with nothing but a silk boxing robe on and a pair of gloves or the oh so convenient positioning of my hands to cover up "my secret girl parts" from all of the world to see isn't how I want to be portrayed on the Internet or in print.  I teach the Mini Hulkies, about 53 of them, and I don't want them to see me as such, selling an image that stinks of sex as opposed to that of an athlete, a boxer.  I am a boxer, a coach, a manager, and in none of the titles I wear is sex object.  So, on that note, I left.  I told them to have their people call my people when they figure out a real outfit, what that is more fitting to who I am as a fighter, and then I added I won't be doing the interview until they email me every single question before the show.

Honestly, I don't know if they'll get back to me.  I got paid but I may have just blown that gig.  But honestly I don't care.  It's me who has to go home at the end of the night and look at myself in the mirror.  It's me who has to live with me.