[description: a long-haired, girly figure partially strips in front of a motel room mirror]
It's fun to think about how, in spite of all our desperate measures aimed at covering the fact of our nakedness, there isn't a person alive whose most intimate parts are more than a layer or two of thin fabric away from being exposed at any time, even as they walk down a public street. That there's a sexy, seedy reality lying barely hidden under the fragile surface of civilized life. Considering how ubiquitous our bodies are, and how strong the nudity taboo is, it's an impressive feat - if indicative of severe neuroticism.
Of course, part of the fun of getting naked is bucking the social programming we've been fed all our lives to deny our more natural, authentic selves. Nudists come in all stripes, but one thing you can say about a nudist is that they're willing to question at least one of the most fundamental (and arbitrary) social imperatives that we're taught from a young age - don't let anyone see what you look like under your clothes.
