Illustration by Jan A. Igoe
We are all born without clothes, but it doesn’t take long for most of us to reach for the nearest fig leaf, since polite society demands appropriate garments everywhere but Walmart. Still, there are a few holdouts who stand by their birthday suits, especially in July.
Most of us celebrate our independence on July 4, but naturists celebrate all month. They’ve got Nude Recreation Week, National Nude Day, National Body Painting Day and International Skinny Dip Day. And those are just the ones we know about.
Devoted naturists find nothing shameful or embarrassing about being naked. They say it’s quite liberating. But speaking as the most self-conscious person ever born, I’m faithful to the fully clothed majority. Except for a few teenage skinny dips before my brain was fully formed, I haven’t strayed. Especially since gravity declared victory. (Viewer discretion advised.)
Meanwhile, thousands of adventurous folks—from skinny minis to buddha bellies—strap on their helmets for the World Naked Bike Ride, which is held annually in 70 cities and 20 countries around the world. Portland draws the most folks with up to 10,000 riders.
“Keep Portland weird,” is their city slogan, so this crowd is prewired to “dance like nobody’s watching.” I dance like my moves might go viral on TikTok, while these carefree folks just pedal around in the buff to celebrate cycling and oppose car culture, according to the event website. If you want to protest anything else, they’re cool with that, too.
You might have thought the whole let’s-get-naked thing went out with the hippies, but they were actually late to the party. When America’s first nudist organization formed in 1930, there were already dozens of nudist camps throughout the country.
Naturists found a surprising advocate in a former minister who fought a First Amendment battle to publish a magazine for nudists. His next legal battle was getting the postal service to mail the publication. Quite an accomplishment back then, considering a man could be arrested for going shirtless in New York until 1936.
Fast forward to 2007, when National Body Painting Day debuted in New York City. While most artists settled for canvas, Andy Golub preferred to paint the living, breathing, human form. Body painting wasn’t recognized as legitimate art, so Golub got arrested along the way. Concerned citizens recognize trouble when they see it.
Operator: “911. What’s your emergency?”
Citizen: “Some nut is painting nude people.”
Operator: “Is anyone hurt?”
Citizen: “The model is hysterical. She might be ticklish.”
Operator: “Does she need CPR?”
Citizen: “She doesn’t. I do.”
For less adventurous, textile-covered souls, July is also the official month to celebrate a favorite summer staple: watermelon.
Besides making a great salsa or sorbet, the fruit has recreational uses. Grease one up for the kids to capture or invite friends to see who can spit the seeds the farthest, like the Egyptians were probably doing 5,000 years ago. (When they weren’t building pyramids, those crazy kids were feasting on watermelon.) They even found seeds in King Tut’s tomb, so he either ate lots of it or lost a royal spitting contest.
If you hurry, there’s still time to enter the annual U.S. Watermelon Speed-Eating and Seed-Spitting Championship in Pardeeville, Wisconsin. It’s held right after Labor Day, when it’s still quite warm for those parts. But you never know. There could be a blizzard, so it’s OK to wear all the clothes you want.
Jan A. Igoe, like many women, loves clothes and is never without them, even in July. Fortunately, watermelon juice is easy to wash out. Join us anytime at HumorMe@SCLiving.coop.