Body in Mind : Ideas of Female beauty

Sex is nice, but beauty is better

Beauty sells. At least according to beauty philosopher, D.Bell, it does. "We've been told so many times - without proof - that it's sex that sells, that most people believe it without question. The problem with this theory is that it's simply not true", he says, "In fact, if you look at what is actually attracting people to a product or production these days, you'll see that it's not sex, it's beauty. No one is having actual sex in car commercials, or on prime time television - at least not yet - and if you look at what is actually attracting people to sex these days, that is, to pornography, you can't help but notice the exceptionally gorgeous actresses employed in it who are making it so increasingly popular. Notice, beauty is selling sex."

We at Body in Mind believe 'Sex sells' has got to go. It has got to go before it sells us on outright pornography on prime time television, and naked women on every product in the supermarket. Not that this would be a bad thing, mind you. Sex is wonderful, and you know we LOVE nude women. It's just that there is so much grandeur and greatness possible to human beings besides beauty and sex, glories that beauty and sex are meant to sell us on in the first place.

"The problem with so many people believing that sex sells", says D.Bell, " is that female beauty is left without the chance to sell us what only it can, morality. We believe beautiful women are meant to inspire moral grandeur in the human race. We believe it is meant to do more than sell products and services, we believe nature has embued human females with such incredible beauty for a very specific and important reason - to sell the concepts of love for man, benevolence, courage, character, integrity, productivity, creativity and purpose to human beings."

The exciting thing about all of this, is that no one has ever tried it! No one has ever used female beauty to sell morality to mankind, at least not on purpose. Many beautiful women have inspired millions of men and women over the centuries to improve themselves and the world around them, but they have done so only in a quiet, behind-the-scenes sort of way.

Body in Mind is proud to be the first institution to ever do so on purpose. The first group of photographers dedicated to this same benevolent spirit. The first website to boldly put the question to the test: Does sex sell; or does beauty?

A new concept in nude gallery sites, Body in Mind is devoted to showing beautiful models naked in the most wholesome ways possible, delivering all the beauty, without the sex. Quality nude and clothed photos produced in a style we have fallen in love with here at Body in Mind, a style that mixes incredible female beauty of high fashion model quality with openly enthusiastic nudity. The effect is staggering. Never before has there been such a mix. Imagine if Playboy featured supermodels in the nude, exclusively, or that the Spоrts Illυstrаtеd Swіmsυіt Edіtіоn forgot to give the girls bathing suits, and you'll know what to expect from Body in Mind.

The glamour and cheesecake photo and video industry has become incredibly competitive in the last few years. To keep up, Playboy recently hired the Editor of Maxim magazine to edit Playboy, and Spоrts Illυstrаtеd uses more and more revealing photos every year. One is becoming less revealing and the other is becoming more. They are both on their way to discovering that it's not sex that sells, it's beauty.

Body in Mind has beaten them to the punch.

Why wait for your favourite publications to figure it out? Sample our latest gallery of Vivien in the Body in Mind galleries, and stay tuned. You ain't seen nothin' yet.

Sex is nice, but beauty is better.

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The girl next door goes to town

Our latest gallery from Chris Rügge features Vivien demonstrating exactly the way men wished women would be. What better to accompany it than a piece of fiction by Leanne demonstrating exactly the way women wished women would be!

It was one of the hottest days on record, and the beachside café where I'd stopped to sit under an umbrella with a cool drink was quickly filling up with afternoon sun worshippers. This part of Toronto, with it's long boardwalk and cool lake breezes was a popular spot on days like today, as was this little open air restaurant, not twenty feet from the water's edge. I was about to leave when I spotted her, perhaps the most flawless woman I'd ever seen, sitting a few tables away with her arm resting casually on the wrought iron railing that separated the café from the boardwalk.
She was voluptuous, like a modern day Mаrіlyn Mоnrое, but it was what she was wearing that made the image complete. Her jeans were a faded dark blue, and on top she wore a crocheted yellow bikini top that was perhaps a size too small for her ample endowment. Instead of looking like a cheesy late night infomercial girl, it served instead to merely accentuate the perfect curves of her breasts and illuminate her softly tanned skin. She had chosen this look with care, that much was obvious. Around her neck was a beautiful beaded necklace that matched the colour of her eyes, and when she reached for a glass of water a little beaded bracelet slid down her arm slightly and then back to her wrist as she moved. She had gone to great effort to appear effortlessly beautiful, and it had worked. A warm summer wind breezed through her blond hair every so often, sending a curled tendril floating against her shoulder or down into the hollow between her breasts, and as she talked with her companion - her husband maybe, or a close friend - she laughed, revealing a joyous, playful smile that would have intoxicated everyone around her.
I enjoyed watching her, wondering at the marvel of genetics that could make us, both women, look so different. I didn't feel threatened by her, or jealous of her - somehow those emotions seemed such an inappropriate way to respond to the sight of someone so happy, so blessed by nature and so ideally formed.
I saw the waiter hesitate as he approached her, and from his body language I could tell he wasn't about to take her order. She turned her pretty face up to him as he cleared his throat, her eyes still shining from the pleasure of the conversation she'd been having.
"Excuse me, ma'am," the waiter leaned down discreetly. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but we have received a complaint."
"Oh, am I talking too loud?" she bit her lip in playful anxiety.
"No, ma'am, one of the other patrons has, well, she has her children here, and she expressed some concern..."
"About what?"
The waiter looked as though an earthquake would be welcome right about now. "Well, you know," he scoffed, trying to appear good natured. "It's just that your clothing is a little too..."
Even from where I was sitting I could see her eyes sharpen. "A little too what?"
The waiter looked around for help, and finding none, he again cleared his throat. "Frankly, ma'am, your outfit is a little too revealing for a family restaurant."
The lady's male companion started to say something, but she silenced him gently with a wave of her hand. She looked directly at the waiter.
"Who complained? Show me."
"I'm sorry ma'am, I can't do that."
"She can complain about me and I can't even get a look at her? Suppose I want to complain that she's too frumpy to be in a family restaurant?"
"Ma'am, please." He pleaded, aware that all of us in his section - his source of tips - were now watching him. "Would you please consider changing?"
She paused, and devilment sparkled in her eyes. "Why certainly." She said. "I'd be happy to. You're right, this top isn't appropriate for a family restaurant."
The waiter looked enormously relieved. Until the lady stood up, reached around behind her and unfastened the straps of her bikini top. She dropped it from her neck and stood topless, arching her back to further accentuate her glorious breasts.
It should have appeared shocking, or at least unusual, to see a half naked woman out in public, but somehow she made it appear natural. With her jewelry adorning her neck, with the faded jeans and the beaded sandals, she somehow looked better dressed than anyone else here. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and brushed past the flabbergasted waiter and began to stroll around the tables, smiling and nodding at each customer. All eyes watched her move, sashaying her hips and letting her breasts bounce slightly as she paused at each table and asked people how they were enjoying their meal.
A tidal wave could have hit the beach at that moment, no one would have noticed. Forkfulls of food were frozen in mid air on the way to open mouths, glasses of beer were pressed against hot foreheads and no one, not even one person, made a sound. She wound her way through the entire restaurant before returning to her table, where turned around to address everyone.
"Now, who has a complaint?" she demanded, arms upraised, and turned around slowly to show off the rest of her magnificent body. "Please, come forward if you find anything wrong with the female body, anything at all."
I was beside myself with delight. Here was my new hero, proudly showing off her body and defying anyone to find a problem with it. Somehow I could sense that there were those who wanted to say something mean and vile, but who censored themselves with the knowledge that doing so would reveal more about themselves than she had done.
She looked everyone in the eye, giving every single person a chance to speak. At length she picked up her top and grabbed her purse from the back of her chair. "That's more like it." She said. "Remember this the next time you complain about a woman's body."
And with that she and her companion left the restaurant. A murmur of outraged whispers erupted as soon as they hit the boardwalk, but I intentionally tuned them out, not wanting their ignorance to cloud what had been one of the most inspiring moments of my life. I watched her walk casually down the boardwalk, topless, fearless, and in every sense the way a woman ought to be.

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Six beautiful nude women and a waterfall

Nude women and waterfalls go together. It seems almost every photographer in history has taken at least one photo of a nude lady in front of a waterfall. It's pictures like this one that remind us why.

What would you do if a beautiful woman sat down beside you?

Her name is Samedi. French for Saturday, the day she was born, a name that brought with it a lifetime of telling people "No, it isn't Sandy, or " same-dee" , or "sa-medd-ee". It's sam-dee. It's Frеnch." Samedi, an exotic whim of a name from a hippie mother, a name that she always shortened to Sam because it was just so much easier. I know this because she rides the same commuter train into the city every day, the train that gets me to work half an hour too early but one I haven't missed in over a year, and because she has a free and easy way of making conversation with those around her as I hide behind my newspaper and take in her beauty in silence.

I first saw her thirteen months ago, a tall, slender, willow of a woman who stepped onto the train just as the doors were closing, lost in a swirl of long, silky hair the colour of chestnuts and fragrant with some delicate perfume. I watched her as she settled herself, crossed her long legs casually, and absently pulled out her book to read. It was only the beginning of spring but her face was tanned and her nose dusted with freckles - her skin seemed to glow from within, like she'd bottled sunshine. I was speechless. I had never beheld such a woman before, hardly even knew such a woman existed. But there she was, crossing and recrossing her legs, the taut, lean muscles well-defined beneath the thin cotton of her sun dress, oblivious to the effect she was having on every pair of eyes on the train. She was a goddess on the 7:15, and I couldn't believe I'd been given the gift of seeing her without being granted the knowledge of what to do about it.

What to say to her? Gооd Gоd, it had been over a year and I hadn't been able to think of a single thing to say to her. I've watched other men move in, casually sit beside her, try to strike up banal chatter with her only to find her conversation never allowed them room to manoeuver for a pass or even an invitation to dinner. What skills of deflection she had, smiling and reaching up to smooth her hair and make it fall smoothly to one side and then the other, gamely driving the guys wild while giving them nothing to work with. Good looking guys, ugly guys, young guys, old guys, no one seemed to affect her, none of their lines ever penetrated that beautiful smile of hers. And I had nothing different to offer. I would practice lines in my head, imagine how I might seize my chance to talk to her and what I would say if I did, I resisted the urge to blurt out how beautiful she was and would she consider putting me out of my agony by going out with me? That would never work. I scribbled out ideas in a little notebook, noted the failures of others and fancied myself some tragic Greek hero like the suitors of Atalanta, who failed to beat her in a race and lost not only her beauty but their very lives trying. Where was I to find golden apples on a commuter train to work?

Then, yesterday, the train lurched and sent her purse tumbling to the floor. She bent forward to pick it up and I caught a glimpse of the curve of her breast through the scoop neck of her eyelet top, her tobacco-coloured nipples peaking out from the tops of her lace bra. It was such a simple, beautiful sight, so fleeting and so charming, unintentional but not with the salacious thrill of voyeurism. It was like a gift of nature, and at that moment I knew that if this was the only way she ever touched my life, it would be more than I could ever ask for, and something for which I should be eternally grateful.

So as the train approached my stop I quickly wrote this note: "Thank you for sharing your beauty with me. It has inspired me and delighted me for over a year now, your easy grace and charming smile have brightened my mornings in ways nothing else could. Your smile is genuine, and like sunshine to me, and even if you breeze off this train and I never see you again, I will consider myself fortunate to have been able to experience such beauty. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

I dropped the note casually in her lap as I left the train, and glanced back to see her looking at me, surprise brightening her eyes, before she opened it. I wanted her to know, at least, that it was from me. My heart was pounding as I left the train, my thoughts wild with the bravery of what I had just done after aching to talk to her for so long.

I could barely breathe as I boarded the train the next morning, scanning the crowd for her familiar blue eyes and warm smile, but she wasn't there and for a moment my heart sank, fearing the worst, fearing I'd scared her or angered her or driven her out of my life for good. But then, just as the doors were closing, she rushed aboard breathlessly with a swirl of chestnut hair and a whiff of delicate perfume. Her eyes searched the crowd and as she found mine, she smiled warmly.

"Thank you". She said. 'No one has ever said anything like that to me before."

"They should have."

She smiled, and my heart, as always, was hers.

WalMart pulls FHM, Maxim and Stuff

WalMart has pulled FHM, Maxim, and Stuff from its shelves. The backlash against beauty continues to worsen. All we can say is that the country full of men that refuses to defend beautiful women when they are attacked, is not full of men. Looks like Body in Mind may have to set up its own activism section to empower those men who want to defend the beauty of women from attack, regardless of whether or not they like these magazines. Look for it soon.

In the meantime, don't shop at WalMart.

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A women's beauty is like spaghetti

For many men the coming of spring heralds the end of a big freeze and the return of beautiful women baring their bodies in public in the latest skimpy feminine fashions.

Unfortunately, these are men who have no woman of their own.

We feel sorry for men like this. Women are meant to be enjoyed all year round, and not just clothed, but nude as well. In fact, it can easily be accomplished, a) if you're a nude photographer, or b) if you have a beautiful girlfriend or wife who loves you.

Alеxаndеr Fеdеrоv is a brilliant nude photographer who shows us exactly what it's like to have a beautiful woman in your life. His photos of Sabine capture the experience and the feelings of fun and fantasy that go with it. Go ahead and enjoy this glimpse of success, and be inspired to achieve it for yourself. You can have it, if you want it.

But it requires doing more than just waiting for spring and begging public displays of beauty like pigeons scrambling for crumbs in the park. It takes character. It requires you to go out and demonstrate to the world (and the women in it) that you're a man who can set his sites on a career or some other equally great accomplishment with style, tenacity and success. Do this, and we guarantee the ladies will take to you like sauce to spaghetti. Women are attracted to men who do things well, and are not too humble to succeed at them. And once a woman takes to you, she is usually more than happy to romp around naked most of the time.

But this doesn't mean you go out and brag about yourself and your accomplishments in order to attract attention. That only makes you look needy, and defeats the whole purpose of accomplishing anything in the first place. Nor does it mean you hide your virtues and talents from view, and instead dedicate yourself to others. Altruism, and pouting out loud that you want to save the environment, might work for beauty pageant contestants, but it'll never make a man impressive to a woman.

Success with women comes with success in the real world. You've got to do something. Oggling chicks in the park is not going to get you anywhere. Only real character will impress a woman, and real character takes more than being 'nice' or respectful or altruistic.

It takes a brain.

Female beauty requires a mind (animals can't perceive female beauty). And the love of a woman requires morality (love cannot be faked). If you're willing to use your brain to build the world of your dreams, as the beauty of every pretty woman everywhere is trying to inspire you to do, a beautiful woman and her lovely body won't be only in your mind, they will be in your life all year long!

So how is female beauty like spaghetti? Simple, they are both best served with love.

We sincerely hope you love the latest Body in Mind gallery of Sabine, by Alеxаndеr Fеdоrоv.