Reminiscent Ruminations

I got my start as a nude photographer (and model) sneaking around the house (and occasionally the neighborhood) at night with a camera and no clothes on. It was fun. The ubiquity of security cameras (house cams, porch cams, street cams, etc.) has spoiled a lot of that fun, but I also have more confidence as an artist now. I just wish I knew other people (like, offline) with a similar mentality that I could collaborate with. But the taboo around nudity makes it a difficult topic to bring up with the people you know, and the inherent vulnerability in being naked tends to make one wary of the intentions of strangers.

Like, even if you embrace the potential for eroticism in nude modeling, being comfortable posing for pictures doesn't necessarily mean you're down for a "hook-up". Exhibitionism isn't intrinsically linked to promiscuity. For some people, "showing off" isn't a means to an end, but the end in and of itself. I consider it a valuable outlet for people who are kinky and open-minded, but who nevertheless have trouble connecting with people in a more personal fashion, or otherwise have reservations about "sleeping around" (not passing judgment on those who do, just not being comfortable choosing that lifestyle for themselves). After all, exhibitionism (and its corollary, voyeurism) is the safest* form of sex bar masturbating alone.

*I am, of course, including the presumption of consent, in contrary to the toxic and discriminatory stereotype of voyeurism and exhibitionism, which displays a dangerously insensitive ignorance of these kinks, and is unfortunately rampant in the public mindset at large.

The problem I have with a lot of nudist advocacy online (despite personally advocating for nudism online) is its black-and-white thinking on the subject of sex. I sympathize with the fear of turning nudism into hedonist anarchy - I don't want to be propositioned or necessarily bombarded with sexual activity just because I enjoy lounging and recreating sans clothes. But neither does that mean that I want to demonize human sexuality, or deny that one of the joys of nudity is its potential erotic appeal. But thinking that all sexuality is hedonist anarchy - that if you let the "perverts" get their foot in the door, they will bust it wide open - is sex-negative. And there are, unfortunately, hedonistic perverts out there that justify that fear, but their presence doesn't mean we can't have a more positive sexuality. That's the grey area I'm talking about. There do not exist only two extremes - monastic asexuality and hedonistic anarchy. Being against one extreme doesn't mean you have to support the other; you can be against both extremes. Because it's a spectrum, and the best place to be is in the middle.

On Streaking - Taboo and Consent

Every time New Year's Eve rolls around, I inevitably think about streaking. As an exhibitionist, it's an activity that seems appealing to me, but it's not something I get a lot of opportunities to do. And it's not just about being naked, or even being naked in front of other people - because I've done a lot of that. So I was thinking about what makes streaking in particular so exciting, and how it touches on the issues of taboo and consent.

One of the things that I would say defines the activity of streaking is the violation of a taboo - going somewhere you're not expected to be naked, (usually) in front of an unsuspecting crowd. You could run around a nudist camp without incident, but that wouldn't really be streaking, would it? It's missing the violation of the taboo on nudity - a taboo that nudists don't have.

But what about consent? It irritates me when people assume that exhibitionists don't care about consent. I get where that comes from, but there is a world of exhibitionism beyond public flashing, and it's frankly insulting for someone to assume that having a particular kind of sexual interest trumps all other concerns, turning you into a mindless pervert who will attempt to get his rocks off at any cost (essentially objectifying fetishism).

I'm an exhibitionist, but I don't expose myself to random strangers. The thought that I could be bothering somebody is enough to completely turn me off of the idea. I do find the juxtaposition of nudity in locations and situations where it's not usually encountered to be enticing. But I restrict myself to remote areas and nudist company, out of deference to the feelings of others, as well as my own safety. This is hardly the picture of a horny beast who will do anything for sexual gratification.

And yet, streaking seems exciting to me. But in my head, people aren't horrified by the sudden and unexpected appearance of a naked streaker - they're delighted! As I would be, if I unexpectedly encountered a naked person in my day to day life (especially if they had the body of a model). In principle, I'm an exhibitionist because I enjoy giving the "gift" of nudity to people who appreciate it. This has nothing to do with forcing it on people who don't want it.

But there is something in the violation of the taboo that makes streaking particularly enticing. The problem is, in order to obtain consent, you have to ruin the surprise. And if people are expecting it, it doesn't really feel like streaking. You could handpick an audience who has expressed comfort with nudity, but this is a lot like streaking in front of nudists. Ideally, you would have an audience of people who appreciate it, without knowing that beforehand. Unfortunately, it's the pre-confirmation of acceptance that eliminates the taboo appeal.

How bad, really, is streaking without consent, though? It's not actually a sex act. And as far as public exposure goes, you're not singling individuals out. You're not hanging around long enough to compound people's discomfort. There needn't be any physical contact involved. You're pretty much on the move, and you're gone in a flash (even if it's mainly to evade authorities). I don't see how it's substantially different, from an ethical consideration, from a World Naked Bike Ride.

So, is streaking wrong? I feel like it's pretty harmless in the grand scheme of things, but I want to know if I'm just rationalizing my desires here. Is it wrong to even find the fantasy appealing? I was downtown a couple of years ago when the ball dropped. I was naked underneath my heavy winter jacket and boots, and I flashed my partner at midnight, right there in the middle of the crowd. I positioned myself with consideration to the fact that everybody was watching the stage, so that my partner was the only one who saw me (knowing that she would appreciate the sight).

It was fun, but I can't help thinking that it would have been even more fun to be weaving through that crowd in my birthday suit, from one end to the other, hearing the excitement of the people as they gradually figured out what was going on. Is there harm in that? Or is this something that's better left to fantasy? It's not something I would do without assurance that things would turn out okay for everyone involved, but I can't help thinking in my head that it sounds exciting. Surely that doesn't make me a bad person.

Nudist Hot Takes: Fitness vs. Body Acceptance

Topic: Is nudism a salve for poor body image, or would a fitter population be more enthusiastic about nudism?

My Take: Is nudism's emphasis on body acceptance putting the cart before the horse? Is it even possible for nudism to thrive among a statistically obese population? Aren't people who are physically fit more likely to be willing to take off their clothes in front of strangers?

I'm an experienced nudist, so I have the advantage of knowing that regular exposure to normal bodies tends to lead to improved acceptance of the physical flaws we all carry. It's tempting to want to believe that nudism can be a salve for a population that struggles to cultivate a positive body image. But this can only happen if people actually try nudism, and we can't force them to try it if they don't want to.

Confronted with the idea of people appearing nude in public, "nobody wants to see that" has been a perennial argument against nudism. But it's one that I'm seeing more and more frequently as I interact with people online as a nudist outside of traditional nudist circles.

Look, I can sympathize. I may be a nudist, but it's not that I don't think human bodies can be gross sometimes. I'm a nudist in spite of that feeling, not because I don't get it. But I also view nudity from the perspective of an artist. I do legitimately believe that the human body can be a work of art. That's the thing about bodies: there are a lot of them, and they come in all shapes and sizes.

I know that it's important to a person's self-esteem to feel good about the body they inhabit - but that's a reason to embrace fitness, not an excuse to ignore it. Denying that some people's bodies look better than others (albeit with a heavy dose of subjectivity involved) is denying a fundamental truth.

And I can't help thinking that if, statistically, the population were fitter, there would be more people more comfortable with the idea of seeing more of people's bodies on a regular basis. I know this runs contrary to the nudist philosophy that seeks to de-emphasize the importance of looks*, but it's acknowledging the reality of human behavior and psychology.

*To be fair, some of the best arguments for nudism have nothing to do with looks, but if this is a reason for people to reject nudism, then it's an issue that deserves to be considered.

Nudist philosophy also insists that nudity is not intrinsically sexual, but while it would be folly to ignore the inevitable ubiquity of human sexuality, a consideration for looks doesn't necessarily embrace a sexual connotation. Yes, people are more likely to view attractive bodies in a sexual light, but even now, a person's body doesn't become a sex object the instant somebody considers them attractive. Besides, it is possible to appreciate the aesthetic beauty of the human body in a way that is not explicitly sexual. Do you consider Michelangelo's David to be pornographic?

I suspect that there are nudists who hold in their heads an image of a utopia in which everybody lets it all hang out, and nobody cares what anybody looks like.** But this is an unrealistic fantasy, and an actual dystopia for anyone who appreciates the virtue of beauty. Maybe people with poor body image would enjoy being in such a world. Or, maybe they prefer this world, in which they can cover up (while still admiring those who look better than they do).

**I think that when nudists insist that "all bodies are beautiful", they are acknowledging the importance of self-esteem in the decision to doff one's clothing in public. I simply wonder whether warping our minds into seeing all bodies as beautiful is a more effective strategy than molding our bodies to become more beautiful. I think the healthiest approach is a balance of the two - grounding our expectations while fostering a positive attitude toward self-improvement.

Maybe nudism isn't a salve for poor body image, after all; maybe nudism is a lifestyle that can only really thrive among a population that takes pride in its appearance. And maybe nudists who want nudism to go mainstream should focus less on convincing the world (and themselves) that looks don't matter, and more on health initiatives to improve people's bodies, so they'll be more enthusiastic about seeing them. Then, interest in nudism will grow organically as a result.

Nudist Hot Takes: Sexualizing Clothing

Topic: Clothing is sexier than nudity.

My Take: It's a foregone conclusion among nudists that people are sexier when dressed than they are when nude. But I wonder if this is a symptom of the fact that nudists are statistically less attractive than the people you meet in clothed society.

People talk about "leaving something to the imagination." No doubt humans have powerful imaginations, but this doesn't explain the popularity of hardcore pornography. We didn't survive the process of natural selection and evolve from naked apes without having the ability to become aroused by the sight of exposed genitalia.

I have no doubt that clothing has been sexualized, as the human mind has the unique ability to sexualize literally anything. But my view on fashion has always been that clothing is flattered by the body that wears it, and not vice versa. That's why my favorite clothes are the ones that show the most skin.

One thing clothing does accomplish is that it hides flaws. There are certainly people who look better dressed than they do naked. If nothing else, nudists understand that most people's bodies do not resemble the perfect ideal that's marketed to us in advertisements and in our entertainment.

But then, the function of clothes, in conjunction with the human imagination, is to let people imagine that perfect body beneath the fabric, which would only be spoiled by seeing the real body unclothed. It's not the clothes, then, that are attractive. It's still the human body. Just an idealized image of the perfect body that exists in our heads, in contrast to what most people actually look like undressed.

But at the end of the day, the sexiest thing alive is that person with the perfect body, showing it all off. Putting clothes on doesn't improve the view.

Nudist Hot Takes: Simple Nudity

Topic: The sexualization of nudity

My Take: As a nudist and as a photographer, I like the poeticism of the phrase "simple nudity". But the reality is that nudity is complex. That's why we keep having these discussions about what nudity means and what it entails.

My belief, and my approach as an artist, is that we should just let nudes be nudes. If somebody interprets them in a nonsexual way, that's fine. If somebody else interprets them in a sexual way - well, that's fine, too.

Trying to interpret the artist's intent can be interesting as an academic exercise, but I think that trying to regulate images based on something so nebulous is a fool's errand. That's why I prefer the mechanical approach to content filtering that you more often encounter on photo sharing sites, to the more subjective approach that social media sites often use.

Forget whether there is a sexual "context", or what the intent of an instance of nudity might be. Either you can see certain body parts or not - implied nudity does not warrant censorship, in my view - and either there are sexual acts depicted or there are not.

I'm not saying it's always straightforward to answer these questions (e.g., should visible arousal be considered a sex act?, and should men and women have to follow different rules?), but it's a far more effective (and fairer) methodology than trying to govern people's thoughts.

Nudist Hot Takes: Textiles

Topic: 'Textile' is a derogatory term for non-nudists.

My Take: I disagree. 'Textile' is a useful term that is not inherently derogatory.

'Textile' is a term that nudists sometimes use to indicate people who are not nudists. However, I have witnessed a backlash by some in and around the nudist community who interpret the term as an insult. I would argue that a certain amount of condescension towards non-initiates in any minority group is inevitable, but that this doesn't poison the term or rob it of its legitimacy.

Nudism is a lifestyle defined not only by nudity, but by its opposition to one of the fundamentally accepted tenets of modern society - that we wear clothes in front of other people unless we're having sex. It's perfectly natural that nudists would not only come up with a term to describe themselves, but also one to denote those who do not see the world the way they do. There's nothing wrong with that.

Tribalism is part of human nature, and when people find a group to which they feel a sense of belonging, it's natural to develop some prejudice towards outsiders - especially when those outsiders are perceived as a threat to the group (as mainstream society frequently misunderstands and actively restricts the practice of nudism). But the possibility, or even likelihood, for this prejudice is not an argument against using relevant terminology to distinguish the two groups.

It may be somewhat of a taboo to compare nudism to anything to do with the LGBT community, but I am reminded of the term "cisgender", which was coined to differentiate transgender individuals from those who constitute the majority. Just because some extremists may use the term in tones of derision towards cisnormative society doesn't change the meaning of the term, or reduce its practicability when talking about the difference between people who are transgender, and people who are not.

Sometimes people who constitute the majority resent being "re-branded" by alternative communities in this way. But this is really just an organic side effect of shifting perspective to include the existence of the minority group. Non-nudists are not expected to refer to themselves as textiles, just as non-transgender individuals are not required to identify as "cisgender" in ordinary circumstances. These terms merely exist to provide a useful distinction for minorities to differentiate between themselves and the rest of society.

Nudist Hot Takes: LGBTN

Topic: An 'N' should be added to LGBT for nudists.

My Take: For the record, I do not agree with this proposal. My hot take is that we shouldn't laugh at the people who propose it.

Now, I've seen this suggestion made in nudist communities, and while there is a small garnering of support, more often than not it is met with scorn and derision.

I understand why the suggestion is offensive, and that the people proposing it are probably demonstrating a sheltered naivety that warrants shattering. But they don't deserve to be laughed at.

Bottom line: I feel discriminated against as a nudist. The fact that I can put on clothes and disguise myself as a member of the majority population doesn't change the way I feel or what I believe.

Consider that we are living in times where discriminated minorities are gaining rights and recognition at an unprecedented rate, and "intersectionality" between marginalized groups is a preeminent strategy for social justice. Nudists wanting to be a part of that isn't the punchline to a joke.

Perhaps the notion of grouping nudists in with gays and transpeople does sound like a joke, but the source of that desire is sincere, and I feel like that gets tossed aside when people laugh at the suggestion that nudists face discrimination.

So maybe adding an 'N' to LGBT is an offensive suggestion, but I wish there was a more sympathetic way of rejecting it than telling people who feel oppressed that their feelings are illegitimate, or that one person's suffering is meaningless just because other people have suffered more.