Showing posts with label skinny dipping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label skinny dipping. Show all posts
Friday, October 22, 2021
The Pleasure of Skinny Dipping
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Saturday, August 29, 2009
THE TELEGRAPH: As upmarket Southwold is being considered as a new nudist venue, one writer bares all on Brighton's chilly East Beach, a naturists' favourite.
"Try everything once," said Sir Thomas Beecham, "except incest and folk-dancing."
It's a fine bon mot for a thrice-married conductor, but I bet Sir Thomas never went into work one morning in London and found himself, four hours later, strolling along a nudist beach in Brighton wondering whether he had the courage to throw caution to the bitterly cold wind, swap his M&S suit for his birthday one and join in the naturist fun.
There are a number of uncomfortable questions racing through my mind as I contemplate joining Brighton's most liberated. What is the etiquette for this sort of thing: does one whip one's clothes off in one fluid movement or should one progress in slow, measured stages? More worryingly, still, can anyone see me? Which boxer shorts did I put on this morning? And why is it so very, very chilly all of a sudden?
So let's start with an easier one to answer: why am I here?
On Thursday, this paper reported that Southwold, the Suffolk seaside town nicknamed Chelsea-on-Sea, is being considered as an alternative nudist venue to Corton, 16 miles to the north. Corton, one of Britain's official oldest nudest venues, will be forced to close soon owing to coastal erosion, and the residents of Southwold don't appear too enamoured by the prospect of an invasion of naked flesh. "They would go ballistic," said Joe Annis, a lifeguard. Gordon Brown, who strolled awkwardly along Southwold beach in a blazer on holiday last year, has unfortunately not yet expressed an opinion.
But is Southwold not missing out in its reluctance to embrace naturists with open arms? And is this not the answer to the Prime Minister's annual dress-down sartorial dilemma?
In Britain, we have always tended to snigger at nakedness. While our southerly European neighbours celebrate the nude body – painting it, sculpting it, going topless on a beach at the drop of a sunhat – we seem to prefer the buttoned-up approach. Taking all your clothes off might be just about acceptable before showering alone, but on a public beach? No, thank you very much; we'll leave that to the Swedish. And if I want to keep my stripy socks on while making love, that's my God-given prerogative as an Englishman. >>> Iain Hollingshead | Friday, August 28, 2009
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