No nudes is good news

SPECTRASTYLE, 1 APRIL 2003

I AM ALARMED – YES, alarmed – by recent developments in the world of nudism. You may not be aware that there is such a thing as the world of nudism, but there is, and it is having developments. Primarily, judging by what I can glean from international news reports, nudism is on the increase. Nudism is surging. Nudism is, you might say, waxing, and that leaves me a little edgy.

You will remember that nudism had a peak of popularity back in the sixties and seventies and even straggling on into the eighties. Hippies and exhibitionists and weirdos and Scandinavians were first responsible for popularising nudist beaches and nudist colonies and nude triathlons and similar peculiar exercises in nudeness. They claimed it was good for your health, as though anyone ever felt better for visiting a nudist beach and spending the next two weeks digging grains of sand from secret parts of the body. Fortunately in time people saw the perils of nudism – it leads, among other things, to Beau Brummel – and the fad waned.

That encouraged me, I can tell you. It made me think that perhaps humanity still has some residual shred of taste and good sense. In the over-whelming majority of cases, the human body is just not intended to be undressed in public. The invention of clothing is one of civilisation’s finest moments – it is what separates us from the beasts of the field, and also from the Swedes. I may be a naked bachelor in the shaded safety of my own home, but I would not dream of unleashing my wobbly expanses upon the unsuspecting public. That would not only be unsightly, it would be downright uncivilised. It is one thing not being ashamed of having a belly like a VW Beetle, but it is quite another to inflict those visions upon others. Just as your right to swing your arm ends where my nose begins, Ngconde Balfour’s right to wear skintight golf shirts should end where our line of sight begins.

It was Oprah Winfrey who first alerted me to the resurgence in clotheslessness as a lifestyle choice. It was recently reported that Oprah is to celebrate her 50th birthday by having naked photographs taken. Naked photographs, I suppose I should add, of herself. When I heard that, I had to sit down and drink a glass of water until the world stopped spinning. Fortunately, Oprah is not intending to publish the pictures – they are apparently for the sole viewing pleasure of her lucky boyfriend Steadman – but still I am not sure I feel comfortable living in a world in which there exist nudie photographs of Oprah Winfrey.

Scarcely had I recovered from that shock when I read the news that an American travel agency is organising the world’s first nudist flight. Castaways Travel has apparently chartered a Boeing 727 to Mexico for what has been described, with hardly a snicker, as a nudist package holiday. Everyone files on board as usual, but once the flight is in the air, passengers are encouraged to unbuckle and disrobe and enjoy the delights of pressurised nudity. Evidently staff will remain clothed – airline regulations wisely stipulate no nudity in the cockpit – and there will be no hot drinks or food served, to avoid scalding should there be spillage during turbulence. Still, I cannot begin to express what a worrying development this is. I become anxious on international flights as it is, without this new additional worry that I may have accidentally booked onto the wrong flight, and when the seatbelt lights are extinguished that balding sales rep in the seat beside me is going to sigh happily and start unzipping his trousers.

Nor is it just loony overseas types who are leading the comeback of the pale and wobbly bits on the public stage. Last year, as part of a strategy for wooing more Scandinavian tourists, members of the Port Elizabeth town council unveiled a proposal to establish an official nudist beach in the city. See? The insanity is spreading! No disrespect to readers from the Eastern Cape, but Port Elizabeth is simply not so aesthetically blessed that it can afford this risk. Take a walk downtown and look at your fellow pedestrians and ask yourself: “How many of these people would I like to see without their clothes on?” Do not be fooled, my friends – nudist beaches are not like paparazzi photographs from Cannes. Nudist beaches have real people, and real people should wear clothes.

Good people of South Africa, it is not too late. We can stop this madness before it takes root. Civilisation is in our hands. The next time you are invited to strip in public, say no. Just say no. If we set a good example, soon everyone will be doing it.