In my esteem there are a few reasons for getting naked in this life: They include:
– Sleeping (in my case, I sleep in the buff)
– Skinny-dipping (love to do so)
– Answering nature’s calls.
– Making love.
– Artistic posing.
– Oh, and getting born. We all, even the most puritanical of us are starkers when we pop out of that old canal.
I didn’t, in the foregoing list, go into the realm of nudists (or naturists, if you prefer) as in those who doff everything to get all over tans. I have no problem with nudism. God love ‘em and in an odd way I admire them. I don’t even think nudists are flakes or eccentrics as some assume rather dismissively. Chacun a son gout
And, as for the aforementioned skinny-dipping I have indulged. Have done so countless times, even in mixed company and have done so without a second thought. In the first place I had a house by the sea for many years and we didn’t always bother to put on our ‘costumes’ after dusk for a moonlight swim. Furthermore, at another stage in my life I owned a pool – a big, beautiful kidney-shaped pool (wonder why there are never liver or pancreas shaped pools?). My wife of the day and I would wait until we knew the neighbors were away for the weekend, likewise the daughter and then we would run out as God made us and jump in. It was heavenly and very liberating.
So, I must confess I am not an obsessively modest person. It doesn’t bother me to go in the buff and, depending on the individual, I can rather enjoy seeing a member of my opposite number equally unclad. For esthetic reasons only, of course. Well, sometimes at least. When I did life-drawing sessions I realized it really is true what is asserted about artists and models. I found, that no matter how attractive the model might have been I never thought of her in ‘that’ way. I was more concerned about maybe the curve of her back or the styling of her hair – the head sort, in case you were wondering.
Which brings me to today’s topic: Nudity and People Who Just Don’t Get It.
When my first wife and I moved to England in 1980 we went out for a drive one sunny afternoon with friends who were visiting from Canada. Driving along the Norfolk coast we found an access to a spot called ‘Holkham Beach’. It was a pleasant ‘shingle’ beach and as we strolled along the foreshore we noticed a sign that indicated: Swimming costumes are optional past this point. In a quaintly English manner they were letting us know that this was like Vancouver’s famed Wreck Beach.
Cor! (slipping into a little UK vernacular here) No, not that I immediately stripped down, though I’d have not had a problem so doing. But, there was a chill in the air – North Sea wind puts an almost perpetual chill in the air – so we all refrained. But, how enlightened, I thought. Not that many brave souls were in the buff on this day, but I liked the idea.
I liked it so much that I wrote a freelance article about Holkham Beach for the Vancouver Sun, which they liked and bought and printed. I have it around somewhere and maybe I’ll find it and reproduce it here sometime. However, thanks to the wonders of the Internet, I was able to find the photo that accompanied the Sun article. My approach to the topic was whimsical and included the observation that at a nude beach there seems to be a tendency for those whom one would not object to seeking naked keeping their clothes on, whereas as those who should be clothed – always – strip down with impunity.
Anyway, as time went on I had forgotten about that civilized little beach. And then I saw a brief item in an overseas issue of the Weekly Telegraph last week, which reported that a favorite UK nude beach was getting rid of the garb-less option because people were being – well – icky. And there it was, ‘my’ Holkham Beach.
Seems that randy bon vivants were hitting Holkham, getting pissed up (often with people to whom they weren’t married) and then going at it like animals in heat, frightening away the quaint nudists of yore.
So, they now have gotten rid of the nudity option. Some asshole always has to spoil the party.
That saddened me.
Some people don’t got no respect. If you’re having a tryst then go to a motel, for heaven’s sake. That’s what they’re there for.