Monday, October 4, 2010


So, how many of you are aware that there are degrees of Nudism?  Is that even the right term?  For now it is.  Anyway, really there are.  There are those who are clothing optional only within the home and some who go out and spend weekenders with the family at nudist camps and there are those who live at the nudist camps and only get dressed ever to go to town and get supplies and groceries.   
Between the ages of about 3 and 10, I guess that’s about right, we were both clothing optional in home and would take weekenders to the nudist camps.  The camps were mostly family environments not so different from most other campgrounds that you can go to.  They have a pool, volleyball, horse shoes, playground, cabins, campers and tents.  The stuff you’d expect, except everyone was running around naked as the day they were born.  For many of them this was a very long time ago.  Like when dinosaurs roamed the Earth.  Imagine your grandparents....just saying is all. 
Given my former post about mother and husband number 3 being swingers, I’m not sure how this applied to the nudists if at all.  Because mostly that isn’t why Nudists are Nudists.  During the day people make use of the pools and outside activities at night the kids would gather in someone’s trailer and play board games or watch tv if you could get reception (recall this was the 70s).  The adults would play cards, strip poker was always popular although I never really go that.  You spend all day naked where is the penalty or added pleasure of having someone take off an item of clothing when they lose a hand. Which brings me to my next observation, from what I remember most of the folks who were nudists were not really people whose bodies you would imagine wanting to see naked.  They come from all walks of life.  Some are skinny, some are fat, some are wrinkly and some have parts that gravity has gotten the better of.  Most are perfectly lovely people who are comfortable in their own skin.  Which is an awesome thing.  I wish I had managed to grow up that comfortable in my own skin.  
To an extent during this time I was that comfortable.  To the point that I would think nothing of running out the door of our apartment when I was about 7 years old, yell to mom that I was going to play, and have no shirt on.  I never thought a thing about it.  It all ended one day when one of my friend’s parents called my mom and said 
“Do you realize that your daughter is outside wearing shorts?” 
“Okay, it’s warm outside”
“No, I mean ONLY shorts”
So we had to have the talk about appropriateness.   
Mostly I liked the nudist camp.  Actually mostly I liked the pool.  I could care less if I were clothed or not.  No one else was wearing any clothes so I didn’t feel any different.  Perhaps I should mention that I am so white that I am nearly blue so I burn easily and I think I have previously mentioned that Mother was not always super diligent about making sure that I wore sunscreen properly.  I’m sure you see where this is going. One weekend, I was probably in Kindergarten, or maybe even still pre-K.  My bottom (and the rest of me) got burned so badly that I couldn’t wear panties or anything else for 3 days because the pain would make me throw up.  Mom couldn’t work for those days because who could she get to babysit that she could explain why I couldn’t have any clothes on? Or how the entire real estate of my body got scorched? She didn’t really like me that much, so spending 3 extra days of the week with me was not something she wanted to repeat.  So, I spent the rest of the summer being the strange kid in the pool who had to wear panties and a t-shirt so she wouldn’t burn.  

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