How a Naked Catwalk Set Me Free
my minister Nigerian father was not pleased, but, my inner child was.
I have been mocked
for having large bosoms,
for the color of my skin.
I was told, at the age of 11,
that I was a woman now,
and that I had to "cover-up" to stop distracting men.
l have been sexually assaulted, I have been told that I am "too much" for asking too many questions and being curious,
I have been gazed upon and objectified and hypersexualized.
I have been ridiculed for being who God created me to be.
I needed to find freedom for myself. I was suffocating and choking from the over-policing of myself and the shame I had internalized. It felt like I needed to make a big announcement to myself that something had to change.
So, I signed up to do a naked catwalk.
This was in front of hundreds of people and the press.
I didn’t care if the people closest to me were disappointed or embarrassed; what mattered to me was how I felt in that moment. I didn’t want my judgment to be clouded—I wanted it to be clear on that catwalk at the Waldorf Astoria, in London in front of hundreds of people:
This is who I am, and this is my body. I don’t care what you think or feel about me because what matters to me is how I feel about myself.
I skipped down that catwalk to the point where I was amazed my breasts didn’t knock me out. I was skipping away all the projections and violence that had been inflicted upon me—mentally and physically—since I turned 11.
People were cheering, “YES GIRLS!” as we sashayed down the aisle. It was 50 of us freeing ourselves. Fuck. It felt so good.
I was smiling and I could feel the dip in my hip, the roll of my stomach folding, I had flashbacks to when I felt I had to suddenly grow up faster than everyone else, and experience adultification, and fend for myself in a body I didn’t understand.
I realized that so much had been taken from me—my innocence, my ability to just exist in my body and not feel so terrible. I wanted to put myself on a plate for everyone on my terms on that catwalk, so the shame could disappear and no longer control me. I wanted to "own" this body in the way I like it, but also share this moment with hundreds of other women. I was not alone in my internal struggles.
I know that bare breasts are political. I thought of women in places like Nigeria and South Africa who, since the colonial era, have used topless protests to shame their oppressors. I am Nigerian; it’s in my blood. What I was feeling wasn’t new, nor was the way I decided to tackle it (clearly), but to the young, confused version of me, it felt like I was doing the impossible. I never thought I would get here—but I did. We did it, kid.
My dad was angry and confused. I think my mum was too, but I was liberated. That was all that mattered to me.
For some people, liberation is having a cheeky cigarette where nobody can see them, no longer faking orgasms, or no longer brushing their hair or doing things for the male gaze.
Mine was this: doing a naked catwalk covered in paint.
Shared with 50 amazing women from all walks of life, who wanted to feel fully grounded and do something radical to make themselves feel better about themselves. But it was a way to also say screw you to everyone who ever made me feel terrible when I was just a child, and to a man who took advantage of his position to abuse me for his sexual gratification. I was taking what was mine, back, my dignity and to free my body of the violence inflicted upon me. Me and this body? We were going to start again and rebuild with experience.
Two years after this catwalk, I debuted with my first single documentary released to national acclaim. This was called ‘‘My Big Boobs’’ for Channel 4, developed and presented by me featuring my mum and dad (hahaha) and I got nominated for a Debut Presenter Award for Edinburgh TV Festival in 2024. I also launched The Big Bosom Brunch a community for women with big boobs to feel free in themselves, and so Stella well and truly not got her groove, found her groove. It was time to share this feeling with everyone and make it infectious because I wanted everyone to know that it was possible to feel good about themselves and that it is there for the taking.
Sometimes I ask myself how would I have felt about myself in 2025 if I hadn’t done the catwalk…
But I guess, we’ll never know. *2004 Kanye voice*
how’s that for a handful?
Jackie x