I wanted to inject some much-needed passion into a relationship that had just survived weeks of family visits and nights spent sleeping in strange beds or squeezed together on a couch with me hacking my poor little lungs out. Nude photos of myself seemed a good way to go. That's how I found myself in deepest darkest suburbia, naked, covered in ostrich feathers, lying on a sofa in the studio of photographer Hera Bell. Hera wasn't at all what I was expecting from someone whose job is to get people to take their clothes off. Born in Istanbul and arriving in Canada by way of Europe, Hera started doing boudoir photography a year ago after years of working in the fashion industry in Europe.

I was nervous before the shoot, nevermind that 1 had never posed nude before, but to do so after weeks of lazing about, scarfing turkey and pounding back the booze seemed a little masochistic. In an attempt to reverse the damage, on the morning of the shoot, I went to the gym. Nothing like knowing you're gonna get naked in front of a camera to make you toss your feminist values out the window. I shaved my bikini line. And I swear, if someone had shown up on my doorstep with liposuction equipment, my thighs wouldn't have turned him away. I found myself pouring over old issues of Playboy arid Quebec Erotique wondering if Hera owned an airbrush. I superstitiously quizzed my beau on what he thought made for an "erotic photograph". His interest was piqued. My plan was working.

Hera had asked me to wear loose clothing (so they wouldn't leave lines on my body), and to bring my own shoes and g-string. And so, armed with several pairs of my best come-fuck-me pumps and pair of black undies wedged into my butt crack (I don't own a black g-string), I headed off for my first nude photo shoot.

Ms Bell welcomed me into her home and I had a brief holiday flashback, as sat in her suburban living room, making small talk and politely sipping the glass of orange juice she offered me. She likes to get comfy with her clients before she gets them naked - though usually her first meeting with a new client happens in public. Once she's confident they're not freaks, she brings them home to her studio for the shoot. Over half of her business is boudoir photography, but she also does family portraits, which makes for an interesting portfolio. On one page, a family of seven smiles out at you, on the next is a naked military guy with flowers at his feet. It seems to work. Many of the clients who come for family shots see her portfolio and come back to do some nudie pics.

Before you get any ideas, Hera doesn't do porn. She lives in a family neighbourhood after all. Granted, some of her neighbours have become clients.

"I do not discriminate against people on their gender or sexual preferences: Hera tells me. "My oldest client was 87, my heaviest client was 320 pounds. Recently I photographed the senior vice president of a major bank from Toronto. The photos were part of his Christmas gift to his wife." One of her most interesting shoots was with a fetish couple who was into sensory deprivation. She showed me a shot of the couple. The woman was seated while he kneeled beside her, decked out in a custom-designed rubber pony outfit. It looked like she had a giant chess piece in her lap.

But enough chitchat; it was time to get down to business. we headed to her bathroom for make-up, then off to the spare bedroom she uses as a studio. We decided to start with something classic. "Uh, should I take my clothes off:' I said, as if I suddenly forgot what I was there for. "Yup:' Hera shot back casually while she busied herself with lights and cameras. So there I stood there, naked as a jaybird, wondering what to do next. "Can you help me move this sofa for the first shot?" To keep things private, Hera works solo. As a result, her clients often double as studio and lighting assistant. I tell ya, nothing like a little hauling furniture around in the buff to put you at ease. Once in place, I draped my naked self on the boudoir-style sofa, and gave Hera my best classic nude poses while she strategically draped me in purple velvet and delicately arranged ostrich feathers across my breasts. "Not a bad job I have," I thought to myself as Hera snapped her first shots.

Still, as glamorous and sexy as it all felt, damn it if I couldn't help being self-conscious about my thunder thighs or my pot belly. Do we ever get over this stuff?

"Everyone is worried about their body," Hera said rolling her eyes. "I'll be shooting the thinnest woman and she worries about looking fat in photos." And it's not just the women. She had one guy running around her apartment and doing push-ups to pump his muscles up before their shoot. "It's my job to make you look good:' she says in an attempt to put me at ease. "You have to trust that I won't take a picture of you if you look bad. Remember, I did a shoot with a 320-pound woman and she looked good."

This relaxed me a little, The fact that she's a woman also helped. We kept things tame. It was my first time after all. We did some shots of me in the body stocking with the leather corset and some boas and finished with a personal request to have her shoot me naked draped in the beautiful satin robe my boyfriend gave me for Christmas. I thought it might make a nice return gift.

By the end of the almost three-hour shoot, I have to say, I could easily understand how a girl could get used to this. In fact, I felt pretty damn good about myself, thunder thighs and all, Hera says this therapeutic effect is the most satisfying part of her job. "It's very rewarding to make people feel good about themselves." Now, let's just hope the photos will make my honey feel good about me too.