Vritomartis: The flagship for the naturist marketing conundrum!

We’re just back from Greece, or more specifically, Crete – where we made our fourth visit over the span of about ten years to the beautiful naturist hotel/resort Vritomartis, located due south of Chania. Directions: Leave the airport, drive through the industrial wasteland near the airport, climb over the daunting mountains ever-attuned to dodging stray goats on the winding roads perched on precipitous cliffs, until you reach the sea. Turn right, then left, then take off your clothes.

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An oasis on the edge of Crete

I keep looking for a word other than quirky to describe this remote naturist destination, particularly since I’ve used the quirky word in the titles of several other blog posts, at least one of which was about Greece. But quite frankly, I simply can’t conjure up another word that does that trick.

I’ll lead out with the ranting part first, which on the flip side turns out to be something of a statement of affirmation. Granted, going anyplace in Europe during the month of June, before schools have let out, puts an immediate and noticeable skew on the holiday destination demographics, but Simpsons fans will immediately relate if I suggest that the clientele of this Greek resort quite closely resembled the residential population at the Springfield Retirement Home. I realize that’s hardly fair, as we, ourselves, are hurdling through middle age at lightening speed, and my typical dismay of seeing Homer in the mirror each morning is slowly turning over to recognizing traces of the emerging Abe Simpson. Now in our late fifties, we are becoming part of that skewed demographic, but golly! There were a lot of folks in the 80+ crowd at Vritomarits this time around. GOD BLESS THEM EVERY ONE! But again… wow!

Bear in mind, getting to the southern shores of Crete is a bit more complicated than finding your way to La Jolla or the Jersey Shore. Even if you can find a direct flight from London, you’re still in for a 90-minute car ride over the goat infested mountains (Actually, we adore the goats!), which involves either a hefty taxi fare, or a demanding drive that requires a good sense of acuity and quick response time. (Again… lovin’ those goats!)

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Resort promo photo

This year, we met Anka, the new animateur from France, who not only led us on the naturist walk down the gorge above Anapoli, but was also charged with doing the morning water aerobics; yet another Simpsonesque scene with an attractive young (naked) woman leading high precision dance-like routines for a wildly un-synchronized group of folks that, even if unimpeded by the viscosity of water, were nowhere close to keeping up with this high intensity workout. Not especially different than when I encounter the water aerobics classes at our local YMCA, conveniently located across the street from a sprawling retirement community, but even there – a bit sobering when the place becomes overwhelmed with the 9:00 am fitness classes donning names like, “You can stay alive another year!” Those folks at the Y are all in swimsuits, but simply put, it’s always something of a mortality check. Like seeing the recent Paul McCartney bit on James Corden the other day – “Damn Paul, you still got it, but dude! You’re getting old!”

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Workout time at the pool

I’ve been working on a blog draft of the “Top Ten Places we’d go with our Clothes on,” in an effort to identify places that have amenities beyond what one might expect at the typically more rustic naturist/nudist establishment. We’ve found several places that would make the list, most notably those in Palm Springs, Mexico, France, Spain, Mallorca, and a couple places in Greece. But not surprisingly, at each of these places, we continue to encounter the recurring story of the people who decided to “live life dangerously after that last kid was out of the nest.” We got into naturism in our late twenties, and pulled our kids into the mix through most of their adolescent years, so we’re never quite sure how to weigh into that conversation that leads out with “Do your kids know where you are right now?”

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The naked walk in the woods

I guess that’s my point. Not that the over-eighty crowd shouldn’t feel at home in their own skin at a place like Vritomartis, and to be sure, that’s a serious part of the affirmation thing. Comfortable in your aging skin is a wonderful testament to the intrinsic value of naturism itself, but naked or not, it presents something of a marketing conundrum for upscale naturist resorts in their attempt to attract a balanced age distribution as most thirty-somethings may not be ready for an exotic holiday in a place where the other prevailing clients are 40+ years their senior. And despite all of the quippy blogs and articles that preach the virtues of naturism as a way of reducing vacation costs, that simply doesn’t hold true if you’re seeking accommodations nicer than a pop-up trailer at a rustic campground. In fact, the expense of getting to a naturist destination, and the implied surcharge of staying at a property with little or no competition in its class, typically means you pay a significant up-charge for the privilege of getting naked, which ironically skews the demographics even more as those same thirty-somethings are likely lacking the discretionary funds requisite for an upscale naturist holiday. Really! A marketing conundrum from most every angle.

As we’ve been to Vritomartis four times already, I suspect we’ll find our way back there within another two or three years. We really do love the place. You can find nearly 800 reviews on TripAdvisor that speak to the various amenities you will find there, and their new website is beautifully designed as they seem to be targeting a more upscale clientele, while making smallish upgrades along the way to create a more international, Club Med environment than what you will find at the parochial little hotels down in the nearby village of Chora Sfakion where you can find a basic room with a sea view for a fraction of the cost. Vritomartis is a must see destination for the discerning naturist traveler.

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Truly an oasis – a room with a view

All that said, perhaps of greatest intrigue is a quick analysis of all the banter about the aging naturist population under the “Doom and Gloom” headers of various naturist forums, as opposed to the proliferation of articles in mainstream media about recent trending patterns for those seeking something different this year – maybe it’s time for a Nakation! Seems to me that, as a whole, there is no immediate danger of the naturist marketing niche dying off anytime soon, (and I mean that as literally as it sounds), but for each eighty-something who simply can’t make it again to some far-flung remote, luxury clothing-optional destination, there will likely be three other fifty-somethings who have just rid themselves of their children, and in doing so, have decided to ditch their inhibitions and clothing as well. Vritomartis, and similar resorts in Mallorca and France, are running at full capacity for most of the season, which provides clear evidence that the naturist population isn’t actually dying off, but rather, it’s just a changing of the guards of clothing-optional recreation. Unfortunately, we’re not getting cadet naturists in the 20 and 30-something bracket one might hope for.

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From the Vritomartis photo contest

A few years ago, we visited a very remote naturist resort in Brazil (another interesting post I never got around to writing) which featured a funky hotel in the middle or a residential community that once again, has become something of a retirement community that opens its gates to a few adventurous travelers, not terribly unlike the atmosphere of Florida’s Cypress Cove, where the more modern facilities are flanked by rows and rows of little houses where people have settled in for their Golden Years. Our next stop in Brazil was a run-of-the-mill textile resort situated near the entrance to Iguazu Falls, crowded with exactly the holiday crowd you might expect; some older than us, and lots of families a good bit younger than us. I remember sitting near the pool, Caipirinha in hand, wondering if the day would come in my lifetime when we would experience this eclectic mix in a clothing-optional setting. Wouldn’t that be something if the swimsuit simply became a matter of preference rather than something ordained in the name of public decency? But in the meantime, we will continue to pay the nudity tax for our luxury clothing-optional travel endeavors, hoping that as time goes by, the mainstream media will help get the word out that naturist travel is not just for the aged and eccentric. It’s simply a choice to leave one’s swimsuit behind as apparel that is hardly useful and usually uncomfortable. The folks at Vritomartis are doing their part to promote that message. Hoping many more will take up their cause until choosing a naturist destination becomes as normal as deciding between the Marriott and the Westin.

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Another promo short from the resort depicting the good life. So who needs a swimsuit?

 

 

Naturist Extremes in Mexico – and figuring out what that means!

I’ve been procrastinating for nearly ten years in writing something about naturism in Mexico, mainly due to the fact that every time I think I have a comprehensive perspective as to what that means – naturism in Mexico – we visit again and I feel even more adrift in making any sweeping generalization that would help a newbie know what to expect. To be fair, our “research” on the topic has been limited to extended stays at two very different resorts, Hidden Beach near Tulum, and Playa Sonrisa at the southern tip of the Yucatan peninsula. We once stayed at a small inn on Solomon Bay that is no longer in business (for reasons that were evident during our stay), and we once did a walk-through at eco-resort Azulik which used to give more publicity to its clothing-optional status than it does today, but neither of those exist as viable naturist destinations today.

We have also met many people along the way who speak to the virtues – or lack thereof – of resorts with names like Desire and Temptation, but we’ve had neither the desire nor temptation to visit either of those as that simply isn’t our style, and thus, you’ll have to search those out on your own.

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Promotional photo from Hidden Beach

We have been to Playa Sonrisa twice in the past five years, perhaps four times to Hidden Beach over the past ten, most recently at the end of March in an effort to escape the mind/body-numbing cold of a prolonged Northeast winter. If only by price tag alone, Hidden Beach is most certainly high end, which has the implicit consequence of attracting a demographic that is willing to part with a small fortune for a week of naked nirvana. While many put down roots for a week or two at a time, we’ve never managed a stay longer than an extended weekend, partially due to the cost (Hmmm… A week at Hidden Beach or a month in Europe!?), but also due to the limited scope of the property. Beautiful and luxurious though it is, a walk down the length of the naturist beach might be stretched out to five minutes or so should you choose to stop and ponder the horizon along the way.

During our most recent visit, we arrived while a particularly convivial (read: boisterous) crowd was monopolizing the swim-up bar. While I’m typically pretty laisssez-faire about what one might encounter at a naked place, I found the tequila induced dancing on the bar a bit over-stimulating, having arrived this time in desperate need of respite and tranquility. But speaking frankly, my personal state of mind upon arrival should have little or nothing to do with an objective review of whether one’s nakation dollars are well invested in a visit to a specific naturist destination. A place is what it is The problem is figuring out what the place is before you arrive!

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Promotional photo from Hidden Beach

This, to me, seems a marketing nightmare for anyone charged with growing the market for clothing-optional recreation anywhere, but especially on the Mexican Riviera, which is such a bizarre mixture of Spring Break destinations and All-Inclusive mega-luxury resorts, each in their own right intended to produce an overdose of self-indulgence amidst a landscape where the other predominant feature is an infinite jungle punctuated with smallish enclaves of poverty. Perhaps the fastest road to sobriety after a fun-filled night at the swim up bar is the realization that the monthly income of a middle-class resident on the Yucatan peninsula is roughly equivalent to a one-night stay at Hidden Beach Resort. Talk about a buzz kill!

But again, the mind of this naturist is meandering again, as what I find most fascinating about clothing-optional recreation in Mexico is simply defining what that is. And it seems I’m not the only one confused about that. Even in France, where naturist options abound, it doesn’t take a great deal of research to determine the difference between Cap d’Agde – famous and infamous for the pervasive sexual undercurrents, or family naturist destinations such as Montalivet or Belezy, where not only the “naturist etiquette” page makes the expectations forthright and clear, but the entirety of the website creates an ambiance where you quickly come to realize that this is not a good place to get frisky in the pool.

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The view from Hidden Beach

At this writing, I find the webpage for Hidden Beach to be particularly perplexing, where the splash page immediately triggers a brief video, along with seductive music, as a beautiful woman walks across the screen leaving a trail of undergarments (maybe a swimsuit?) in her wake. At last, the motto… “Come out of your shell… at Hidden Beach Resort.” That said, the policies at Hidden Beach are clear and seemingly well enforced, and beyond the aforementioned dancing on the bar, we’ve yet to experience anything there that would get one thrown out of a Disney resort. Nudity, notwithstanding, of course.

I also find it interesting that what has disappeared from the Hidden Beach website is the home-grown gallery of guest photos that was something like a TripAdvisor gallery, few of which featured full nudity, but most of which exemplified the people you actually meet and see at a typical clothing-optional destination, of which almost none (yours truly included) look like the 30-something models in the photos in the limited professional gallery that exists now. If you weren’t already intimidated by the naked factor, the beautiful people factor ought to frighten the self-conscious away, whether wrapped in a bathing suit or not.

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Playa Sonrisa

At the other end of the spectrum, and essentially at the other end of the country, is Playa Sonrisa, a quiet little resort that requires a five hour drive from the Cancun airport that leads you to a place that feels like the end of the world. Interestingly, owner/innkeeper Murph maintains two websites for this little naturist haven in the jungle; the original patchwork site found at www.playasonrisa.com, and a spiffier updated version at www.playasonrisa.net. In either case, however, he wants it to be clear before you make the long drive that what you will not find there is a swim-up bar, themed lingerie parties, or anything else that resembles a pulsing night-life. Additionally, your willingness to make the long drive will literally save you hundreds of dollars per day without compromising the main attraction – the opportunity for a few days of clothes-free, stress-free living.

We have many good things to say about Playa Sonrisa, beginning with the genuine hospitality of the owners best epitomized in the ethos of the 24/7 honor bar, to their unrelenting efforts in providing the necessary creature comforts in a part of the world just beyond the reach of broadband internet and your typical 900 channels of cable TV. In fact, that is their marketing niche, appealing to those who desire to get away from it all, including their clothing. With only eight or ten rooms at most, there seems to be enough appeal for this decidedly more rustic approach to make it difficult to book there less than a few months in advance. and Murph goes to great lengths to make sure you understand that what they offer is quite the opposite of the all-inclusive indulge-a-fest opportunities that lie to the north.

 

 

It’s worth noting that we’ve blown right past the opportunity to stopover at a newer condo-quasi-naturist resort in Tulum called Intima Resort, partially because we’ve never been willing to spend the time, and also, by name alone, we can’t quite figure out what it is. And therein lies the conundrum of the entire naturist marketing debacle. In fact, my confusion was confirmed recently when I stumbled across a GQ Magazine article from 2017 intended to help readers realize their clothing-optional swinging dreams. While focused on a couple resorts that are only mentioned casually here, they also gave a shout out to Hidden Beach as well, which explicitly rejects such playtime activities as part of their culture or acceptable behavior. (Thankfully, Murph and Playa Sonrisa dodged the bullet of an honorable mention altogether!) But how is the average consumer to know?

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A GQ artist’s depiction of clothing-optional Mexico

Or more importantly, how is the average moderately open-minded person to know what to think when clothing-optional vacations come up in casual lunchtime conversation? What if that spawns enough curiosity that she might go home and Google “clothing optional Mexico” just to figure out what it’s really about? That brings to mind another thread I recently saw on Twitter about the prudes who are so intolerant “about lingerie dances at nudist places.” What’s the big deal, she says?

The big deal is that it’s very difficult for the average person who has never experienced social nudity to differentiate where nakedness becomes provocative becomes sexually charged becomes the exchange of bodily fluids. And it’s always the GQ article that’s going to get the most hits and the most citations, especially from those looking for a reason to tell those crazies to “Put your clothes back on and behave!”

So there it is.

People are confused about clothing-optional recreation in Mexico. Sadly enough, I’ve been there at least a half-dozen times, and so am I. That’s not a good sign.

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Promotional photo from Hidden Beach

 

 

 

 

Naked and Alone – on a nudist island…

I have yet to really comprehend the complexities of the blogosphere. You never really know who your audience is, especially when you include words like nudist and naked in your meta tags and post descriptions. I think bloggers – or at least this blogger – would like to think that people find The Meandering Naturist, bookmark the site, then meticulously dig through the archives to see what has been said in the past, and how one’s story continues to unfold over the years. Though having said that, I have several blogs that I’m quite fond of, and despite the best of intentions, I rarely work my way back beyond the the last two or three posts. I guess this is all a precursor to offering an apology of sorts if my musings about a certain place (say Ile du Levant) or particular topics (like the bizarre social construct of the naturist ideal) seem like the very same topic of ninety percent of my previous entries. If you are the fastidious reader who has combed through the depths of my naturist diary, I offer my sincere apologies from the Department of Redundancy Department.

As is so often the impetus of a new blog entry, today’s inspiration finds its source in the confluence of several concurrent events that have caused me to take a moment, scratch my head, and utter a thoughtful and curious, “Hmmm….”

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The most immediate and visceral of these is my first visit as a single male to the French naturist island, Ile du Levant – a mere 30 minute ferry ride off the Côte d’Azur near St. Tropez. Fear not faithful readers! It’s not that I’m suddenly single, nor has my naturist wife has given up the crusade for social nudity, but in this case, I had business to take care of in the South of France following a holiday weekend, and thus, my schedule allowed a two night stay on this idyllic little slice of heaven before taking care of business on the mainland. I’ve read a lot about the intricacies of traveling as a naked single male, and I think it’s quite a lot easier in France than in America, but it’s a different perspective all the same.

In the meantime, I’ve been reading a Kindle book called Nudist Cruise, authored by a young woman named Hailey McPherson who moved to Asia with her boyfriend a few years ago to try and make it as musicians and performers. As it would happen, they ended up separated by job leads that took one to Hong Kong and the other to Mainland China. A possible reunion arose when the boyfriend got a substitute gig playing in a show on a cruise ship, which provided the opportunity to bring his girlfriend turned blogger/author along for the ride. What she didn’t know until the 11th hour was that this would be a nudist cruise! The result is a bloggy recounting of a young couple trying to figure out the whole nudist/naturist phenomenon, For an academic such as myself, I find the writing to a bit casual and unrefined, but the big takeaway is the author’s perspective in her efforts to grasp social nudity amidst the inevitable pressures of so many social norms and – by her portrayal – an incessantly horny boyfriend who doesn’t seem to understand that people get naked for reasons other than sex. I have yet to finish the book, but I’m thinking that in the 9th inning she will deliver the message something to the effect of – “So you like to be naked. What’s the big deal?”

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So you like to be naked. What’s the big deal?

I could search for a few more catchy one liners that would help contextualize such a question, but yet another blogger has done it much better than I. I don’t know his name, but he apparently is about my age and lives in the Northwest, and I have to say… his assessment of social nudity is about as grounded and forthright as any I’ve ever read. He has several posts related to naturism, but this post called “Out of the closet and into the frying pan” pretty much drives it home. I was so taken by his post that I actually lifted a few quotes:

On the topic of naked doesn’t equate to sex…

Nudity isn’t asexual. It is just as sexual as clothing – no more, no less. People will still get just as excited about a possible mate whether they are clothed or nude. The fact is that the more you hide the sexual cues that bodies put out, the more everyone becomes hypersensitive to them. The face, by itself, becomes more and more important as the rest of the figure is hidden.

On the topic of live and let live…

I don’t care if you are a nudist. I am not about to try to convert someone or even raise my own children to be nudists. All I care about is that you don’t care if I’m one.

On the topic of causing irreparable damage to your children with nudity…

Even children who have spent their formative years in a nudist environment may push back, if not when they realize that this isn’t what their peer group is doing, then when they hit puberty and things start going out of control. I think parents are duty bound to place their child’s need to fit in with their peer group above the more abstract benefits of nudism. If they reject the lifestyle, then so be it. They may well return to it as adults. Even though my own children sometimes ran around naked and went skinny dipping with me, once they went to school, fitting in was more important.

But my favorite part of the piece – his remarks on why people are afraid to get naked….

Clothing is one way of denying the aging process and all the other “faults” we imagine in ourselves. (Along with plastic surgery, Botox and Photoshop.) Sagging breasts, small breasts, missing breasts, graying or too much body hair, stretch marks and wrinkles, large moles, birthmarks, extra weight around the middle or butt, jiggly thighs, man boobs, shrinking musculature, small penis, operation scars. Yup, a cover-up for all these things, a way to pretend we are not all bound by entropy.

Thank you nameless dude on the internet who made the simple, but poignant, realization that clothing creates as many (or more) conundrums than it solves. The real conundrum is facing up to the fact that if climate permits, better to bare all and check the psychological baggage at the front door.

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I know. There are a bazillion entanglements in this argument, but for me, where it all gets stuck is WHY are humans so hung up on the dimensions of the male penis or the female breast? I had a conversation with a young colleague a few years ago in which we agreed that if you really want to know someone, you focus on one specific body part – the eyes! Beyond that – talking to humans like they’re really human – in a day and age where one can find any visual stimulation they might be looking for on the internet, wouldn’t it be to the benefit of the naturist ideal that the human form is simply what it is? No more, no less. Why must it be so complicated?

So back to the title of this post. This may well be my tenth visit to Ile du Levant, but the very first time I’ve not been here with my female companion. I had a couple days to kill, the weather was good; a perfect time to exploit the opportunity to get naked.

It was a nice stay. But it was a bit lonely without my travel buddy, which makes me all the more empathetic to those who experience naturism without a companion.

But that aside, Ile du Levant is an interesting place. Sometimes people are naked. Sometimes people are clothed. There is a “libertin” (swinger) culture here, but you have to look for it to find it. There is a gay culture here, a bit more evident, but why should one care one way or the other? How did we get to this place where other people’s preferences are offensive, one way or the other? Even if you’re deeply religious, the prevalent message there is to love one another and turn the other cheek. (No pun intended.)

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My personal opinion is that if we all invested a bit more energy in contributing to the greater good, and a good bit less energy into the business of wondering what others thought of our bodies, our values, our intentions, we might have a better shot at getting along with one another on a planet that has a finite capacity for humans.

Let people be naked, and alone, or with loved ones, on an island… and be good with that. Need it be more complicated than that?

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Talking to your children about the POTUS and porn-stars, school shootings, and the dangers of seeing a nude person on the beach.

What on earth is going on?

So first the first time ever, I felt badly for Donald Trump Jr. yesterday when I came across a news-feed that says he’s taking a lot of heat for letting his 3-year-old daughter play at home without a shirt on. Really? Are you kidding me?

So let me see if I can grasp where things are at here in 2018…

  • Whether you read the New York Times, or watch Fox and Friends, you can scarcely get through a single day without hearing the name Stormy Daniels, and at least some diffused reference to Russian prostitutes peeing in a Moscow hotel room. (Just to be non-partisan here, do we remember all the sordid details of how Bill Clinton did not have sex with that woman!) In either case, the suggestion that these things didn’t actually happen simply ramp up the imagination to warp speed, causing one to wonder, “Huh! What would that have looked like?”
  • I remember the utter horror while the Columbine Shooting was unfolding on TV, some 20 years ago – simply unfathomable that such a thing could happen in what should be a known safe-haven for our children. Today, an event of that magnitude barely makes the evening news.
  • In the meantime, Netflix and Amazon Prime have all but replaced network television, completely changing the norm for (sexual!) nudity if you choose to watch anything other than the Disney Channel. Let me clarify the rules – It’s OK to see naked people on TV as long as they’re locked in a sweaty embrace, undulating in passion.
  • But turn to page two of the local newspaper and you’ll likely find some wacky story about a person who held up a 7-11 Store in the nude, or heaven forbid, exposed her breasts at the seashore or dared to breastfeed a child in a shopping mall.
  • Dare I even mention the ritual of “sexting” as that now appears to be part of the normal courtship routine for your average middle-school kid? Thank you Snapchat for creating a tool that (supposedly) destroys the evidence after 10 seconds.

I suspect my point is self-evident by now, especially to those open-minded enough to read a naturist blog. What on earth is going on with our collective sense of values? And beyond that, how do you have a candid conversation with your 13-year-old when he comes home and asks whether you think the porn-star payoff was actually drawn from campaign contributions? “My U.S. history teacher says it’s Watergate all over again.”

Our children are now in their late twenties. They grew up with the internet, and while we took to the normal parental precautions of having computers in public spaces, monitoring browser use, etc., smart phones didn’t become common until our youngest was a senior in high school. They had to discover the joys and perils of phone sex on their own time and their own dime.

We had (have) a very frank relationship with our children, ascribing to simple advice offered to us shortly after our first daughter was born. “When your kids ask difficult questions, answer the question directly with age-appropriate, but real information” But only answer the question, then stop talking. If they need to know more, they’ll ask more questions. Of course, we had also been taking them to naturist places from the time they were old enough to go to Disneyland, which pretty much negated the need for them to ask questions about body parts and pubic hair, not to mention the natural process of aging. They did, however, have some awkward questions about the old naked drunk guy who ran his golf-cart into a tree at a local nudist resort. That was when we decided American nudist resorts were difficult for families, and moved our naturist endeavors to France.

But honestly, I just don’t understand how children or adults are supposed to sort any of this out in relation to any kind of value system. Our most conservative friends will cite – chapter and verse – religious principals that provide a clear framework to establish right and wrong, but seem to have no reservations whatsoever about a President who does not appear to be contesting that he partook in intimate activities with porn stars and prostitutes, but whether such activities constitute collusion or fiduciary impropriety! Don’t even get me started on the people who attack teenagers who rally for gun control. Spend that time instead gathering up a few statistics about how many children have died after seeing a penis or a breast at the beach, then compare those numbers to how many have lost their lives as a result of going to school when a shooter cut loose.

I suppose critics of this argument would say, “You’re talking apples and oranges, dude! What’s your point?”

My point is that the most adamant critics of Donald Trump Jr. about letting his daughter run around without a shirt on, chastised him for “not teaching his daughter a proper sense of modesty.” Funny, our children never once got confused about when and where they could/should be naked. We never got a call from the principal telling us our son forgot to wear pants today. Nor did they ever get a French naturist resort confused with a textile campground or the pool complex at Disney World. “Hey! You can’t go to the mall naked” we said to our teenage daughters exactly never.

They were, however, of age about the time we had to explain the stains on Monica’s blue dress, while rationalizing whether oral activities did or did not constitute having “sex with that woman.” And having grown up during the the evolution of the various Nintendo systems, my children have a much higher threshold (or I should say, are completely desensitized) for violence in movies, video games, and on TV. Post a video from a European naturist resort on Facebook or YouTube and get your account shut-down. Put up a clip from the latest feature film with 90 minutes of death and destruction and your worst case is having the clip removed for copyright infraction.

I understand that not everyone was born to be a naturist. Some people don’t like going to the beach at all, with or without a swimsuit. And we all have our own issues with looking in the mirror each morning, and to what degree we can stand to look at ourselves in the altogether. That’s all fair.

But if we had to make a list of the top ten – top twenty? top ONE-HUNDRED? – things that are contributing to the moral decay of humanity, does seeing a naked person lying on the beach really make that list? Here’s a research study for an eager doctoral student someplace: “Compare the number of people who have fallen victim to a naked person, including fatalities, severe injury, or even lasting psychological damage, to the number of people who are completely adrift right now from other social phenomena.” Adrift because they struggle with porn addiction in an era where Stormy Daniels is a household name. Adrift because they are utterly confused about fake news and why lying is the new truth. Adrift because they lost a loved one in a school shooting, and nobody seems the least bit concerned about the prospect of giving guns to teachers.

Perhaps we should sell bumper stickers:

What’s more dangerous? A naked person or a teacher with a gun?

Good luck parents of the Class of 2036! Be sure to unplug the TV, home-school your children, don’t read fake news, and for heaven’s sake, don’t take them to a beach or a campground where they might see body parts similar to their own.

So many rules!

2018 – from the naked eye…

As so often happens during the cold winter months, I’ve fallen away from my blog. Winter is a particularly crazy time for me at work, and there simply isn’t much time to write, let alone give much thought to/about meandering naked.

But the weather is starting to turn here in the eastern United States, and it seems hopeful that despite blizzard like conditions all the way into April, there is some hope that it will soon be warm enough to work on the all over tan on the back deck soon. So in quiet anticipation, I thought it might be interesting to take a quick inventory of the developments in the naturist cyber-sphere that I’ve noticed over the past year.

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I was sorry to see Felicity and Jordan give up the fight for YNA (Young Naturists of America) after working so diligently in advocating for normalizing social nudity. If you don’t know Felicity, she is a 20-something that grew up in a naturist family frequenting a club in New Jersey, and she and her partner Jordan were incredibly progressive in their efforts to move nude recreation into the mainstream of their peer group. I have yet to meet them, but it seems the task simply became too onerous, and I suspect they simply encountered “too much weird,” as so often can be the case when working for a cause considered deviant by many, intentionally exploitative by some. In any case, it’s a bummer. You can still find some of the best content from their old website on Felicity’s blog, though she has ramped up her banter about feminist causes in this new incarnation. I get it, especially in this political climate, but it does diffuse the energy a good bit as related to the naturist cause. One would like to think that people who embrace naturism have already gotten past things like gender bias and discrimination, though as I said in an earlier post, (The Demographics of Nakedness) about the only thing naturists have in common is being naked. So there it is.

She’s also started a series of interviews with everyday people from all walks of life who frequent Gunnison Beach near NYC. Interesting project. Interesting read. The Real Nude Beach: A Body-Positive Photography Project on Gunnison Beach.

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I’ve become an avid fan of Nick and Lins from Belgium and their most excellent Naked Wanderings website and Instagram accounts. Was hoping I might actually meet them this spring as they are currently exploring naturist places in North America. They’ve amassed a huge following, and it appears they are somehow able to make a living writing about social nudity. In any event, they are wonderful ambassadors for the cause, and their website is becoming one of the best resources for naturism that gives a glimmer of hope to the under-fifty crowd for figuring this whole thing out.

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Clothes Free International seems to be making a comeback. Back in the early 2000s they were a significant force in the young naturist movement, particularly on the west coast, developing a series of video shorts called Nudes in the News that highlighted news stories about social nudity, along with a nice variety of trip and beach reports. For a long time, the CFI message boards were about the best thing going for finding other naturists and discovering places to become one, but alas, the incessant banter about pubic hair and erections were about the only threads that could sustain themselves into oblivion. I, personally, became disenfranchised when one of the moderators erroneously deemed one of my previous blogs to promote swinging as he had misread one of my trip reports. Despite repeated attempts, I was never quite able to sort that out, and ended up jumping ship from their forum. But in any event, they seem to have a new crew with new energy and renewed optimism for the cause. And with ever-improving technology, their production values are quite excellent. A good resource, for sure.

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It’s been someplace between amusing and astonishing to watch the Topfree in Ocean City debate burn up the airwaves, a perfect recipe for media frenzy. Seems a few determined women are eager to enjoy the rights of their male counterparts, but the mayor of this beachfront resort town is certain this will destroy the family values of what most would consider to be a ticky-tacky boardwalk wonderland. Have no delusions, Maryland is anything but progressive on matters like social nudity, with strict referendums passed a few years ago that banned discreet nudity on some of the most remote beaches of Assateague Island, where about the only beings you’re likely to offend are the wild horses who run there. I always wonder if scuffles like this one are more helpful or hurtful to the cause, especially in this day and age when narrow-mindedness is increasingly in vogue. I also wonder how hard one would have to look to find a topless woman on this expansive beach in the Mid-Atlantic? My guess is that you have a better chance of winning the Powerball than seeing a naked breast in Maryland.

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In a somewhat related story, a young woman from Australia took on the establishment, or more specifically, the highly restrictive rules regarding the posting of nude photos on Instagram. Nude_YogaGirl had her account suspended, but instead of simply deleting her page, she fought back with a media blitz in the Australian press – and it worked! Her account has been reinstated, and as of this post, she is enjoying over 786,000 followers! A quick perusal of her photos suggests she had to agree to cover nipples and the pubic region, but it’s still a big step for nudity on social media, which has apparently garnered the support of nearly a million people who are not too offended to follow her account.

So here we are in 2018. Evermore paranoid about the exploitation of children to the point where their faces are pixelated in everyday newspaper articles, and absolutely freaking out about nippleage on Instagram and on the beach. All the while, stories about the President’s sordid doings with porn stars and Russian prostitutes surface daily on every channel of the media, which must be putting most parents in a way more awkward position for answering questions about morality and behavior that stretch far beyond simply acknowledging the existence of human anatomical parts.

It’s difficult to identify the naked truth when both words… naked, and truth, have become so controversial.

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OMG! You’ve Seen me Naked!

I just clicked through on a quirky piece on a Second Life blog with a series of naturist photos and a compelling case about the normalcy of nudity – or at least, how that should be the case.

I’m not a Second Life guy, so I have only a vague understanding of that culture, but I find it particularly intriguing when people who “live” in an entire world of alternate identities speak to the inherent truth and honestly of social nudity. (Even a bit more peculiar when people take on the identity of a nude avatar, which to me, has always seemed a bit too close to animated pornography – but that’s another topic for another day.)

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A few months ago, my blog crossed the threshold of a 500,000 hits. At the time, I considered writing some goofy post to the effect of, “A Half-Million Views of My Naked Ass,” but other than simply stating that some sort of strange “rite of passage” had occurred, I finally decided what’s the point?

Just to complete the loop, I also got a comment in response to one of my recent blog posts requesting – rather politely I will admit – that I offer “more male frontal nudity please.” I thought that to be particularly intriguing (and a bit irritating to be truthful) as there are a bazillion places on the internet these days where one can find full frontal nudity in all states of arousal or not. To be more specific, I have over 4000 followers through the various channels of my blog, and the realization that some of my readers are simply holding out for the opportunity to view my genitalia is flattering at best, but pretty creepy in reality.

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And so it goes in a day and age where we can go to the cinema and see sex and violence in copious quantities, but full frontal nudity puts a film in a different class, creating a parallel universe in the naturist community that sends a clear message that female breasts and male genitalia are not for the weak of heart! (If someone would like to explain to me to mystery of female genitalia as obscured by pubic hair, have at it!) The bizarre part of the entire equation to me is the fact that devoid of imagination, nudity has little or no allure. None! Most of us feel more self conscious (e.g. less alluring) when we lack a protective layer of cotton or nylon, and even fewer of us feel we have the bodily characteristics to qualify as internet worthy in the category of sexual stimulation.

How did we… as a species (!)… get to this place? My dog runs around naked all the time, and he seems totally oblivious to the entire phenomenon!

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I have often wondered where we would be with the social nudity thing without the overwhelmingly prudish aftermath of the Christian missionary conquest. Don’t get me wrong. I was raised in the Christian church, and I understand they mores they seek to espouse. Find a mate. Procreate. Don’t mess with genetics by making babies with your cousins. But in 2018??? With HBO, Pay-per-view, and Tommy Wiseau? Are you serious?

So after I finish this post, I’ll comb through my Twitter feed and block followers with auspicious names that are searching for God knows what, and I’ll look over the various blog posts I’ve published to date with one eye toward promoting body-positive advocacy and the other toward the “What on earth are you thinking?” crowd, knowing full well what they’re thinking, and wondering why they’re wasting time on the pages of my blog.

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And so it goes. We live in an age where acceptance and tolerance is fully embraced by everyone, except by those who are neither tolerant nor accepting. I have often wondered about the pioneers who brought nudism to America, so fastidious to the merits of high fences and private mailings. Today, you can have just about anything you want delivered to your mailbox or your computer, but set foot in your backyard donning a flaccid penis or an uncovered breast and you might find yourself in the Municipal Court defending your “right to bare arms.” Crazy.

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Perhaps I have grown tiresome in reiterating this in recent blog posts, but I’ll say it again here…  Social nudity is a liberating and rejuvenating experience to those who are able to get beyond the dogma of it all, which is all pretty bizarre when you consider that very few humans look better wrapped in nylon or Lycra than they do wrapped in skin.

So there we are then. Naked and afraid. Yet I will continue to rally for the naturist cause in the most altruistic way I know how. Hoping that one more person out there might read this blog and say, “Why the hell not?” Life is too short to spend our days wrapped in wet nylon!

[Images in this post are believed, by the blogger, to be in the public domain. If you wish to have an image removed, please contact me and I will respond accordingly.]

ANOTHER BLOG ABOUT NUDISTS. REALLY?

This effort is meant to augment my naturist travel blog, The Meandering Naturist, wherein I write mainly about our travels to naturist and clothing optional places all over the world.

Read the entire post: Another blog about nudists. Really? — The Discerning Nudist

I’m posting here about the fact that I never repost, except for this time, when I’m reposting myself! 🙂

Consider following my new blog: THE DISCERNING NUDIST