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Undoubtedly, the greatest fear among nudist families is that their children, whatever their ages, may become victims of predators, puerile photographers or worse. These are legitimate fears, and in particular, why we at The Nude Review generally disfavor the "nudist club" environment, preferring instead to endorse nudism as a way of life. Okay, now you're confused. What we mean by a way of life is simply the elimination of shame in regard to the naked body. In essence, remove the shame, and clothing becomes purely optional, environmental conditions permitting. Many of the boomer generation, when asked to reflect upon the subject, readily concur that nudity in the home was indeed a rare event. The majority of those polled by The Nude Review in a 1998 study acknowledged having never seen their parents naked, and would not consider the option a pleasurable one if provided the opportunity today. Nature versus nurture, we suspect, with nurture several lengths in the lead. But it is in our "nature" to be naked in the world (again, environmental conditions permitting). Clothing came around very late in human history. In some parts of the world, it's yet to arrive. In Europe, generally speaking, it's become once again an optional accoutrement (of course, weather permitting), as evidenced on nearly any European beach between May and September. As noted in the essay, "California Nudist Pictures," Europeans are essentially very sensible when it comes to their bodies, "they don't mind having them." However, what if you didn't grow up in a family where nudity was as common as TV or radio? Chances are your teen daughter or son will be mildly reactionary if you show-up for the family badminton game in the buff. Their "nature" to be nude has been overshadowed by the nurturing received from their textile-dependent parents. Well, worry not. As with anything (most recently, getting used to a new computer screen—you just have to get used to it), new ideas have a habit of bearing results if gently, rather than forcibly, applied. The Nude Review is of the opinion that nudist life is best understood simply by viewing the people active in the "lifestyle." What you'll see is people behaving rather normally, albeit, nakedly, without the burden of shame. If you're interested in teaching your children to respect their bodies and, in particular, other people's bodies, nudism is certainly appropriate to the cause. If you're interested in encouraging your spouse to give nudism a try, show him or her some of the photography you see on these pages. What they'll see is people having fun. Take our word. Skinny dipping is fun, and can be exciting in mixed company without being "sexual." Sensual—yes. Our final word of advice is this: no coaxing or heavy-handed coercion. And if your lame uncle is visiting and wants everyone to get naked with him in the hot tub, elect not to do so. He only wants to get his rocks off (we suspect). There are, indeed
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Miami Nude
Beach Nudity, Please Read!
There's something liberating about the antic of being naked. The
freedom. The exhilaration. The lack of pocket lint. Unfortunately, for
most people the notion of nudity requires some rationale - no matter how
silly that rationale may be. Streaking across a football field.
Skinny-dipping in a lake. Mooning for the camera. Photocopying your
butt. Playing naked Twister. Flashing a nun after sixth-period class,
hoping she didn't recognize you and isn't at this instant phoning your
parents. For most people, it's all about the naughty thrill of getting
caught or exposing a private part. But not for all. No, for many it's
perfectly routine, as normal and natural as, say, kissing hands or shaking
a baby.
Nude beaches are the perfect denominators for these two groups, the
puritans and the pure exhibitionists, the fakirs and the non-fakers. Think
of it as a big game of strip poker where everybody has crappy hands. The
thing to remember is that nude sunbathing isn't about sex or exhibitionism
- we'll leave that to the nudist colonies and Courtney Love. Nude
sunbathing is about elation and free-spiritedness (and avoiding wedgies
and ugly tan lines).
I've made the trek to No Clothes Land many a time. I've dropped trou in
Europe, where it's no big deal - heck, even the Royal Family has displayed
a boob or two (not counting Prince Charles). Black's Beach in San Diego
is world famous for nude sun worshipping. And, of course, here in Miami,
we have Haulover Beach.
One of the misconceptions about nudity is that every human body is
beautiful (Right). The key to inoffensive nude sunbathing is to do just
that - sunbathe. Do not play volleyball in the buff. No grilling or
barbecuing. Even if your Playgirl's Mr. January, do not perform an oil
and air filter change on your auto while naked. An watch the jogging -
you could poke somebody's eye out.
Nude beachgoers often have their social cliques and routines. They picnic
and fraternize, and they love to mingle. Zoiks. These people who sashay
up and down the beach wearing nothing but a smile and a spare tire are the
same folks you find in the receiving line at a wedding wielding a business
card and a can of Binaca.
When I venture to Haulover, I stick close to my blanket or hit the water.
I don’t wander about. It’s like you want to work the room, but there’s
no place to put your hands and no appropriate place to hang your Walkman.
(Plus, you feel like you’ve gone to a party and everyone’s wearing the
same thing.) Personally, I happen to like being naked. It’s never
bothered me. I often get home from work, disrobe, and sit naked on my
couch eating cereal. (Did I just cross the line of too much information?)
Some people are uncomfortable naked. I’m not. What I do have a problem
with, however, is being ugly and naked. Statistics show that the number
of people who enjoy nude sunbathing is proportionate to those who should
put something on. Like a tarp. Or one of those tents that they use when
they’re debugging a house. That one of the reasons why I prefer the
sanctity of my blanket. I can feign sleep (or death, if necessary) should
some naked old man approach me and start to discuss today’s undertow as he
squats liberally in front of me.
Sunscreen: I’d be remiss if I didn’t stress the importance of proper
protection. Those regions that rarely see the light of day are the first
to succumb to the sun’s deadly rays. Hence, watch your behind, or your
buns will be toast. As for – how do I say this politely – garnishing your
weenie, yes, your little buddy needs sunblock, but remember, you’re in
public. There a fine line between safety and pleasure when applying
lotion to Mr. Happy. I’ve seen guys go at it like they’re greasing a fire
pole. So take it easy. Don't make things hard on yourself.
When it comes to accessories, there are certain things you should and
should not bring to a nude beach. Telescopes and binoculars are definite
no-nos. You may think of this as a ball game, but I’m sure the Red Sox
would beg to differ. Likewise with a camcorder – carrying a video camera
at a nude beach is the pervert’s equivalent of driving by a schoolyard
with a van full of candy. As for ready, avoid books with titles like
Justice of the Piece. Stick to Field and Stream, Reader’s Digest or the
Gideon Bible. Sunglasses are a must. If you’re gonna ogle, at least do
it behind your Maui Jims.
As for your random beach bump-ins, there are obvious encounters. Besides
bodies that you’d rather not see naked, piercings are immensely popular.
Popular, I surmise, because they’re in places that wouldn’t necessarily
be exposed at Publix (unless you shop at the new one by the bay). I’ve
seen nipples that look like parachute rip cords.
And below the belt, I’ve seen piercings that made me recoil. (Come to
think of it, I’ve seen coils down there, too.) And little napkin rings.
And something called a Prince Albert. I’ve seen less metal at a gun
show. And shaving. Hmmmm. Apparently trimming the hedges has become all
the rage. Some folks go for the close cropping; others like it smooth. I
haven’t seen topiary this creative since I was at the Botanical Gardens.
Nude sunbathing can be a kick, an exciting way to liven up an otherwise
dull day at the beach. For the ladies, it means being able to wear a
sundress without worrying about unsightly strap lines. For the guys, it
means there’s no need to adjust the boys: it’s a wind sock now. For all
of us it means an escape, a break from our daily worries and cares, a
moment’s freedom where less is so much more – except when it comes to that
sunscreen.