Vermont's Independent Voice
Browse News
Browse Arts + Life
Browse Food + Drink
Browse Cannabis
Browse Music
Browse On Screen
Browse Events
Browse Classifieds
Browse Personals
Originally published August 7, 2002.
I took a seat in the living room and quickly noted that all the chairs were draped with towels. It’s an etiquette thing. At Maple Glen Campground, virtually every surface on which you could potentially put your butt is protected by clean terrycloth. Willy and Sue went over the other rules — no pointing, no photographs — while a couple of casseroles cooked up in the oven.
You’ve heard about Naked Lunch. Well, I was just about to experience Naked Breakfast. It seemed only polite to dress, er, undress the part. Resolved, I headed for the bathroom to strip. The only way to experience the unique democracy of nudism, I reasoned, was to join the body politic.
It was not as easy as I imagined. Despite years of skinny-dipping and lounging naked around the house, I had to coax myself into taking it all o . The rain and the Mozart didn’t help, but a little sign in the bathroom urged me on: Instead of “Home Sweet Home,” it ordered, “Go braless. It pulls the wrinkles from your face.”
More By This Author
Comments
Comments are closed.
Since 2014, Seven Days has allowed readers to comment on all stories posted on our website. While we’ve appreciated the suggestions and insights, the time has come to shut them down — at least temporarily.
While we champion free speech, facts are a matter of life and death during the coronavirus pandemic, and right now Seven Days is prioritizing the production of responsible journalism over moderating online debates between readers.
To criticize, correct or praise our reporting, please send us a letter to the editor. Or send us a tip. We’ll check it out and report the results.
Online comments may return when we have better tech tools for managing them. Thanks for reading.
