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Some may think me old-fashioned (although I wouldn’t agree) and some a purist (which couldn’t be further from the truth). But I must confess, amongst my actual crimes, I am little vain, a little pompous and quite particular about things.
Naturism is a word that intrigues ‘particular’ minds and I return to it often. For a start, any academic would be hard-pressed to know exactly what it means – and so would most naturists. My dictionary describes it as: the worship of natural objects. But we seem far too immersed in the unnatural studies of body art, piercing, tattoos, and shaving for this to be true. It seems any naturist ‘worship of natural objects’ revolves around the pleasing anatomical features: breasts, buttocks, legs and genitals – with one or two oddities thrown in for good measure. I have yet to see a naturist embrace a tree or caress a rock in preference to another human being. I fully understand that such exhibited affections could lead to some complicated divorce proceedings. But it does rather suggest ‘naturism’ is not the correct word for what we practise and that ‘nudism’ and ‘hedonism’ are slightly better.
Ah, but what does it matter? What’s in a name? I hear you ask. The trouble is, being particular, I prefer the word: naturism. It has one hundred years of history. It is also one syllable removed from naturalism – into which category belong such erudite gentlemen as Cousteau, Attenborough, and Bellamy. And I wouldn’t mind being taken for a naturalist instead of a naturist – should such a misunderstanding occur. Or would I?
“Sterling work you fellows do, what! Off saving the planet next, I imagine. Or is it a spot of bird-watching in the Galapagos?”
Whereupon I would reply, with laudable modesty and scant reference to giant tortoises and marine iguanas, that my life wasn’t quite as exciting as that – doubtless causing my audience to infer that it must be all the more. Guilt would well up inside me until my cheeks were as rosy as a baboon’s bottom. For all my plotting of an idle afternoon’s sunshine on Brighton beach, observing two-legged creatures (who might in turn be observing me), while the rainforest and the tiger, the European brown bear and the ozone layer, and anything else that mattered were all going to hell.
No matter how you look at it, naturism is a very grand title for whatever it is we actually do. There are more admirable pursuits, so let us avoid a pious regard for this one. However, without ethic or purpose, lately we have sat in judgement of each other, discriminating between the different types of people who are drawn to social nudity. We want the ‘right sort’ and hope that our company will always be:‘nice people – people like ourselves. Interesting? Oh, yes, but not too interesting – if you know what I mean.”
So we bandy about terms like ‘genuine’ and ‘proper naturists’ without any model, or satisfactory explanation. Like the Flintstones looking for a Betty and Barney Rubble to join their circle, we are disappointed when new neighbours come from, say, the Iron Age instead of our own. We still crave signs of familiarity and tribal unity, but vital clues go missing when our wardrobe takes a holiday. It’s one of the down sides to nakedness. Time was when you could tell a lot about a man from the cut of his suit, an old school tie and the state of his shoes. But now, perish the thought, we might have to listen to what he has to say instead.
Then there’s the persistent voice of our conscience. How long can we go on like this? We have walked, swum, cycled and even driven naked in far-flung corners of the globe. We have posed in states of undress from here to every country I can think of, in every season. Yet what do any of these brazen exploits matter? Without purpose we remain: all (un)dressed up with nowhere to go. We are rebels without a cause.
I fear naturism campaigns only for its right to exist, nothing more. Perhaps there is a sub-plot, something to do with ridding society of repression, or something similar that I have missed. Whatever, it cannot be enough. In an ideal world we would not have to justify ourselves – but everything else on this planet has a reason, or it becomes extinct. Cows make milk, bees honey, and even flies are good for swatting – so why shouldn’t we declare some worthy objective, a manifesto even?
Before we ponder what these worthy objectives might be we ought first to reflect upon our sincerity, or lack of it. If social nudity feels right for you, then it very probably is right. If it is purely a form of titillation, then one hopes you love life will improve soon. If it’s a heady mix of sensations with no one dominant theme, then you’re probably well balanced and healthy. Whatever state of mind and dress you find yourself in though, the one thing that is called for, right now, is not judgement but honesty. Naked truth should be the backbone and common ground of all naturists. It is the only foundation worth building upon.
But truth is not always kind. That we have focused upon nudity as if it were our highest (and only) aspiration is our greatest absurdity in the eyes of the world. Being naked is an agreeable condition but nothing in nudity alone merits the clamorous applause of man.
So it is my belief that we have our ‘uniform’ but not yet the rationale or motivation for wearing it. Although, in reality, that elusive sense of purpose is not so far away.
You see, in naturism we have the germ of a philosophy that every sane man, woman and child on Earth can relate to. In essence, it is reaffirming our affinity with nature and natural things. And for this there has never been a better time. Consider the debates that rage over farming methods, food production, cloning, and the environment. Consider the evidence consistently showing that the more unnatural our lives the less happy and healthy we tend to become. Marvel at how sexuality still strives for a balanced understanding, between the dryness of textbooks and the exploitation of the sex industry. Wonder at the enormous waste generated by our thow-away society – and note our addiction to this consumer paradise. When you’ve deliberated all this and more, ask yourself: Who is better placed to argue the case for nature, natural remedies and common sense than naturists?
Well, just because I happen to think naturists are the natural guardians of liberty, environmental awareness and social conscience, doesn’t mean you have to agree. H&E is however, the ideal platform to debate such issues.
If you have a relevant interest or specialist knowledge, share it with us. Don’t just send another snapshot of you sunning it on the patio – no matter how handsome. We’d be much more impressed to see you in the context of doing rather than merely being. What about the secret ingredient to a good compost mix, for instance, or how to grow prize-winning vegetables, or a handy tip for all those plastic containers that seem too good to throw away, and what’s being done to make your local naturist beach a model of excellence? Clearly, there’s enormous scope here to exchange frank views within the realm of human nature and our environment.
But before we go, remember this: you have the ‘uniform’, it doesn’t matter whether nudity fits you like a glove or hangs like a sack that is worn at the elbows, wear it with pride. You may only have ‘signed up’ for the sunshine and the social life but choosing to participate more actively in naturism may be the best decision of your life.
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