Public Nudity: Loving your Tits and Other Naked Bits
According to the criminal code of Western Australia, it is a crime to do an ‘indecent act in public’. Apparently, this includes nudism. But what is so vulgar, improper, crude or vile about our own naked bodies?
A few fellow nudists and I attempted the first ‘World Naked Bike Ride’ in Perth a couple of years ago during summer. Four people showed up and I’m sure anyone would agree that it was a bit of a disappointing attempt. Before we had even made it onto our bikes, we had a run in with the assuming “Manger of Northbridge Piazza” which is, as you probably know, a lawn area overshadowed by a LED screen in Northbridge. We were still clothed when he reminded us that we weren’t allowed to participate in ‘such activities on City of Perth property’. We reminded him that the whole of Perth (public Perth, that is) is City of Perth property, meaning owned by the government who represent... well… us! However, that is an issue that can be saved for another time.
I guess I could understand the man’s anxiety as anyone who has the control or management of a public place who permits a person to do an indecent act (which includes public nudity) can face some serious charges, so I guess it was fair enough for him to push us out. Eventually, we hopped on our bikes in our underwear; we decided it would be hard to arrest four (almost) clothed bike riders as opposed to four naked ones. I guess I would say it was vaguely successful as we got a few honks and whistles on our ride around Northbridge.
Only recently before this dismal attempt did I learn that there are indeed several nudist and naturist clubs around Perth. Sunseekers Naturist Club, in the hills is Perth’s largest and most popular naturist club. Most of the members of this suitably bush enclosed club have been members since they were born, suggesting that the popularity of this “activity” is now a mere echo of a bygone era. However, I think the lack of current interest is more indicative of how nudism functions (or rather, doesn’t function) in our current environment.
Our Prime Minister has been on the record for saying things such as “what comes from the Bible has formed such an important part of our culture”, and I think I would agree if only I could substitute “importance” with something to the effect of “stunting” or “restrictive”. We are all aware of the creation story which is present in many religions (in Australia, this being mostly Judea Christian) in which a supposed god created both man and woman, perpetuating the concept that our relevance in the world is preconceived, or rather, that we are designed and are given some sort of ultimate purpose. The right of the individual to do with his or her own body as he or she pleases is bestowed upon an entity, whether it be a god, many gods, or any other autocratic being. And because our bodies and our “private” bits are created, they are somehow special and even “sacred”. We have to hide away our private bits because they are only to be seen in sacred acts, namely reproductive monogamous sex, preferably within the sacred confines of marriage. When we remind ourselves that we are no longer living in a religiously superstitious society, we remember that we can see our bodies as what they are; a result of nature and not of creation. So, what does this mean? It means we should be able to do what we want with our bodies, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else, of course. Trust me, seeing an overweight person naked is not as scarring as some malign comedians would make out.
Nonetheless, there seems to be less young people taking off their kit, even though we live in a more liberal environment than out parents and grandparents. Or do we? We have open discussions on sex, pornography, masturbation and the like. One could say we live in a hypersexualized culture. There are paedophiles, sex addicts and perverts, all of which bundle in with what we’re repulsed by. But haven’t they always existed? Preceding the 18th century, it was assumed that women were the seductresses or the pervert, after which they began to gain more intellectual and social power and all of a sudden it became apparent that one couldn’t point the finger at women alone. Female poets and writers began to write about love and sex from a female perspective, bringing to light the idea that anyone could be sexually perverted, including men. In such novels, we see that women are constantly on their guard from the sexually rampant men, which is an idea which even echoes within discourse of today.
Perhaps the younger generations and especially women are all too aware of the perverted eye, looking for any bit of naked skin they can get their eye on. Admittedly, the idea that I could be the subject of someone’s strange sexual fantasy is a bit repulsive. Nevertheless, this “perverted eye” has acted as a sort of myth. From a logical point of view, a man holding a camera on a beach is unlikely to be a paedophile, yet parents will be careful to keep their kids under direct supervision when they spot a man with a camera traversing the beach. In reality, we are all sexual beings, so we shouldn’t be afraid of another’s sexual desires as they are (in healthy situations) somewhat reflective of our own. But perhaps we are guarding ourselves against something somewhat less tangible. Maybe we fear the onslaught of a condemning society.
Perhaps the confused relationship between sex and nudity that we have somehow conjured up stems from an exponential growth in technology, and by extension, the media. In the last hundred years, we have witnessed the birth of the internet, film, television, and mass production of pornography. Mass media is of course not new as we can see that this began in the early 19th century, the first age of mass media, along with the fascination with sexual celebrity and sexual gossip. Similarly, today we are constantly bombarded with ideas about what goes hand in hand with sex and what doesn’t, not to mention the ultra-thin, surgically altered bodies that manifest in such media outlets. The follow-on effect of this warped perception of the reality of our bodies is the misappropriation of nudity. Whilst mass media likes to tell us otherwise, being seen naked is not necessarily a precursor to sexual activity or implicative of sexuality. Of course, it is difficult to not see an obscured nude image of a woman in a fragrance advertisement as sexual and sexy, but then again, this woman is probably posing in a sexually suggestive manner with a few sweat drips sliding down her thigh. In reality, a naked person doesn’t constantly look sexy, or like they’re “asking” for sex. Even so, suggesting that a naked or sexy person is asking for sex is of course problematic as it leads to questions revolving around consent and rape. In this sense, it is very important to be able to differentiate what nudity means when in a casual context – hanging around with friends, family or whomever else – or in a sexual context.
Something that keeps reminding me of the confused and swindled perceptions surrounding nudism is how it’s used and received in theatre as opposed to in public. As a performance student graduate and a sporadic life drawing model, I’ve realized that the theatre space and an artist’s studio or gallery runs according to separate rules to society. Nudity isn’t taboo in the theatre and art gallery, but it does function in a particular way; as art. It is all well and dandy, and rather “high browed” and arty to have a nude performer on the stage, however, nudism in public isn’t so well received. This discrepancy points out an ill placement of principles. Nudism as art can’t be real. It is untouchable. It is exclusive, confined and it is artificial. But our bodies should not be made unreal and untouchable, because they are of course very important to our existence. Nonetheless, in the most practical sense, our privates are just another part of our body, so why hide them?
Essentially, one has to decide for themselves how much control they are going to have over their own body. One can choose to comply with a culture that incessantly bombards us with very narrow and confined ideals about how our bodies should be. Or one can choose to be fearful of another’s promiscuous nature. But perhaps more importantly, one can decide for themselves what their bodies mean to themselves and what they do with them. Trust me, it is incredibly liberating for the mind to run around in the nick. I would highly recommend it to everyone. And it feels a whole heap better not to wear bathers in the pool!
Ella Churchward
