Uncovering Naked Gallery Truths
Nudist Publications Document the Stripped-Down Lifestyle, Warts and All

The best thing about nudist magazines is that they give you a newfound appreciation for clothing.

The glitziest fashion spread in the history of Vogue is not as good an advertisement for clothes as a nudist magazine's simple black-and-white photo of a pudgy middle-aged couple just sort of standing there buck naked.

In this over-civilized modern world, we don't often get to see what average Americans look like under their clothes. And after perusing two popular nudist mags, I can report that this is probably a good thing.

The two magazines are N: Nude & Natural, which is the official publication of a nudist group called the Naturist Society, and Travel Naturally, a magazine devoted to "amateur nude recreation." Both are widely available -- I found them on the newsstand at Tower Records -- and both offer ample evidence that the urge to party naked is not confined to the kind of people you'd like to see partying naked.

It's easy to wax poetic about the beauty of the human body while reading Playboy or gazing at Michelangelo's "David." But when eyeing naked pictures of folks who look like Dick Cheney or Barbara Mikulski, you're forced to admit that the average human body is really not all that attractive. On a purely aesthetic level, I'd rank humans somewhere in the middle of the spectrum -- above the slug, the sloth and the catfish certainly, but far below the gazelle, the tiger and even, if truth be told, the cockroach.

Of course, such sentiments are blasphemy to the editors of these magazines, who believe that the world would be a better place if everybody wandered around naked. And they may be right. There would certainly be a lot fewer concealed weapons.

N is the more political of the two magazines, written by and for activists in the cause of naturism, which seems to be the politically correct term for nudism. N runs articles on the movement's legislative battles -- "Wisconsin Anti-Nudity Bill Sent to Legislative Purgatory." It also runs learned legal essays, such as "Naturism, the Adult Entertainment Industry, and the Law," by Allen Baylis, a lawyer who is shown in a photo that's far more revealing that anything you're likely to see in, say, the American Lawyer.

N is also a forum where naturist activists engage in internal debate, which turns out to be pretty interesting. One essayist denounces "those annoying Christian naturists" for their endless "family values" harangues. A letter to the editor complains that older, blue-collar nudists seem hopelessly declasse to young, affluent nudists: "Frankly, there is nothing that turns off a twenty- or thirty-something potential nudist faster than a pot-bellied naked person smoking a cigarette and drinking a can of beer."

Meanwhile, activist Mark Storey advocates that nudists should advance their cause with "bold displays of lighthearted nakedness" in public places. "There is nothing absolutely wrong with offending people," he writes. "Martin Luther King offended many people as he marched against segregation. Jesus offended many people as he routinely told them in public that they were sinners."

Storey's manifesto is illustrated with a photo of the middle-aged author and his Family Naturist Pictures wife wandering down a street in Eugene, Ore., wearing nothing but shoes, glasses and shy smiles. He does not, alas, reveal how the Eugene constabulary reacted to their visit.

Traveling Naturally is a far less political magazine, concentrating instead on stories touting nudist camps all over the world. "What began in back lots, remote beaches, and rustic trailer parks has truly emerged into an industry," writes editor Bernard J. Loibl.

Loibl's latest issue gushes over the glories of the California's Pal Springs Nude Resort & Spa, a luxurious new nudist complex in Land O' Lakes, Fla.: "Club Caliente, with its grand lobby, elegant furnishings and vaulted ceilings, feels like an exclusive country club. Even diehard nudists might feel underdressed amid such luxury."

Traveling Naturally also runs historical articles, including "Athletics and Ascetics," which compares traditions of nudity in ancient Greece and India. It includes this delightful sentence: "Jain founder Mahavira listed nudity among the troubles that a faithful monk must learn to endure (along with hunger, thirst, heat, cold, pricking grass, mosquitoes, gnats and women)."

In the back of Travel Naturally is a section called "The Front." It's a lively compendium of news of the naked: Monty Python star Terry Jones unveils a nude painting of himself. Singer Alanis Morissette announces that she likes to walk around naked: "I'm a leave-the-bathroom-door-open nudist, which is sometimes disconcerting for my friends." And a naked man shows up to vote in South Africa: "The reason why I'm doing this," said Abram Mkhonza, 58, "is that authorities in Pepville refuse to allow me to plough the land in Swaziland."

Travel Naturally also offers unsolicited advice for waging the war on terror:

"As you may already know, it is a sin for a Taliban man to see any woman other than his wife naked and that he must commit suicide if he does," writes an unnamed wag, who suggests that American women should therefore "walk out of their houses completely naked to help weed out any neighborhood terrorists." Meanwhile, men should "position themselves in lawn chairs in front of their houses to prove they are not Taliban. . . . And since the Taliban also do not approve of alcohol, a cold 6-pack at your side is further proof of your anti-Taliban sentiment."

Are you listening, Tom Ridge and?

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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.