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The eternal nudist

Thanks to childhood photos like the above I’ve come to believe I was never really a fan of clothes. If only we could remain childlike and un-self-conscious forever. That time before you start noticing how different you are and covering yourself in clothing is really an unsung period of awesome. It’s gone so quick, we don’t appreciate it and not all of us learn to embrace it fully again. As an adult nudie, one of my greatest pleasures in life is to get home, strip down and veg out on the couch. Or plonk myself at the dining table to write… As I am now… although I do have a top and undies on at the moment, which is somewhat less liberating than straight nudity.

It’s got to be one of the greatest feelings, right? You wear your restricting, sometimes uncomfortable clothing (I’m looking at you, bras) all day. You’re hot. You’re tired. It’s been a long day and you just want to be free of all that was. As soon as you slip off your shoes and work clothes, you feel like you’ve started putting the day behind you. If it’s a bit chilly, you put your peejays on and – shazam! – same feeling. Hell, if I could swing it past Jared, I’d crank the heater up and remain naked throughout winter.

Or maybe it’s just me that loves a no pants (or tops) party. But this is something I highly doubt. Surely every woman relishes the first few seconds of being bra-free. Fuck, I hate bras. Sure, I love lingerie and all the fancy stuff but purely from an aesthetic point of view. They’re damn uncomfortable and, if you have my proportions, totally unnecessary unless you need to be somewhere visible nipple-age is frowned up, like say your place of work.

And that’s fair enough. Every now and again, a person needs to maintain a sense of decorum. But not all the time. Hell, not even most of the time. Constant clothing is for chumps. Embrace your inner nudie rudy! Become one with your inner child and streak around the house in a bare bum. Sprawl on the couch with no clothes on.

Of course, don’t do this if you have house mates at home. Or maybe do, I don’t know what they’re like. They might be ok with it and you might start a trend. I suppose you just need to think about whether that’s a positive in your current situation. Gosh, how did this get so serious all of a sudden? Your potential/non-existent housemates are not my problem. Why am I getting bogged down in something that has absolutely nothing to do with me and may never happen?