日期:2008-11-23 14:45


My night at an all-nude New York dinner party.

"If anyone young is reading this, go, right this minute, put on a bikini and don't take it off until you're 34." This is Nora Ephron, reminding us that now—right now—is the peak naked moment of our lives, the highest point on a steep slope of sagging. I remembered this rule when my email dinged with a dinner invitation. The invite contained details about the host (a friend of a friend), the cuisine (Indian) and the attire (none). A nude dinner party.

I was petrified. I am an enthusiast of other naked activities—skinny dipping, showers, sex. But unlike dinner, those all start with ‘s.’ This seems important. Also, they all involve doing something. A lengthy swimming career taught me that many people are attractive naked not because of their bodies’ particulars, but because of the way those bodies move. It’s why the prettiest people are not always the most sought after. Movement is important. When stationary, my lower body looks like a bean bag chair.

Looking at her breasts six inches from the bread, I lost my appetite.

But I wondered. Nudity is something I can deal with. Perhaps I am a closet nudist. Perhaps nudism is my new untapped outlet, ready to occupy the empty space in my life between knitting and Netflix.

I rang the bell, and a geeky, middle-aged man in bifocals stuck his head around the door. Richard. He pointed to a stack of towels next to the door. The only rule of nudist events is that you sit on a towel. These were hand towels; I was expecting beach.

I was on Richard’s email list because I’d heard that a computer programmer arranges all-expense-paid trips to Florida and the Caribbean for nudist rookies. Richard, the programmer, is a sort of ringleader for New York City nudists, making frequent trips to naturist resorts in Tampa, Palm Springs, St. Maarten's and Maine, bringing along groups of four-to-30 people.

Behind him, another naked man with long brown hair sat with a laptop at the kitchen table. Richard informed me that the female guests were running late. I wondered if stripping with two strange men in a strange apartment was unwise. I scanned. They seemed passive, and I decided they probably wouldn't attack me. On the wall, a digital picture frame flashed group shots of smiling naked people. They didn’t look like they’d been attacked recently. I went into the bathroom, stripped, and took out the beach towel I'd brought from home.

I emerged and gingerly sat down on the towel on the couch, legs tightly crossed. Naked dinner is sort of like public speaking: it takes a couple minutes to win over the crowd, except you’re the crowd. Richard told me about his gig as an extra on Fur, reenacting famous Diane Arbus portraits, while I struggled to find a flattering or comfortable upright couch position. Richard didn’t hold back: one leg out to the side, balls in full view. It wasn’t lewd. When you look at Richard, you understand why he's naked: He looks like he should be naked. Dressed, he would be a 2.5; naked, he's a 7.0. He's rotund-yet-firm, tan everywhere and fully comfortable in his nudity. He says he spends most of his home-time in the buff.

The rest of the guests blew in, three late-twenties women, a masseuse and two teachers, who stripped in front of the door and plopped down on the couches and floor. And a 30-ish Asian guy, who announced his recent victory on Pants Off Dance Off, a program on the Fuse Network that TV Guide called “the dumbest show on television.” Contestants have three minutes to strip while dancing in a three-foot-square box. We watched the episode clip. He is indeed very talented at stripping in a three-foot-square box. I relaxed. When other naked people are calm, you're calm.

My earlier theory that moving is a pivotal part of nudity is all wrong. Moving while naked is a pain in the ass. It’s hard to get off a low couch while adhering to society’s Keep Your Legs Closed Always rule. But I made it to the dining room table, and dinner proceeded much like any other--chitchat about work, discussion of how cool it is to win $200 for three minutes of stripping in a box. There was no sexual vibe. Through three courses of Indian food, I found that my need to check out men’s packages had passed in its entirety, and that skin is just another set of clothes. People carry themselves differently when naked; it’s more authentic. You can read who people are at a glance. I imagined the heavily makeup’ed fashionistas of my Upper East Side neighborhood melting down under these conditions, their coiffed facades broken, their personalities unable to function in the harsh light of reality. There’s something very real about naked dinner.

New York City is one of the worst places on earth to be a nudist. The exposure laws are strict, and there’s one nude beach for eight million residents. Richard says he leads trips because he has the money, and because otherwise people would never learn how comfortable naturism is. There’s no sex involved on his part.

His dinner guests seemed free, getting a dopamine high off the rarity of what we were doing. I was not high. My hand hurt because I could not stop gripping my towel. I sat on it, or held it in my hand, or carried it around the apartment, clutching it like child’s security blanket. As long as I held it, everything would be okay. Couldn’t. Let. Go.

Also. Couldn’t. Eat. There are two types of people: those who look better dressed (Gwyneth Paltrow), and those who look better naked (Pamela Anderson), and one of the former was sitting directly across from me, a thin bank teller who was quite foxy clothed. But naked, she was thin and somehow unappetizing, and for reasons I can’t articulate, looking at her breasts six inches from the bread, I lost my appetite. I felt guilty about this.

After dessert, people lounged on the couches for a while, then pulled on their clothes in the entryway. I’ll save you suspense: I did not become a card-carrying nudist. I politely declined Richard’s invitation for a trip a sunny resort somewhere down south, and happily escaped to the bathroom, because getting dressed is a private activity.

Never was I so excited to see my bra.

“如果正在阅读本文的你正值妙龄,那么,请赶快去!现!在!就!去!找件比基尼套上,不到你三十四的时候不许脱下来!”Nora Ephron的这句话提醒着我们:现在——此时此刻——正是我们这些人一辈子的裸体巅峰时期。这个最高点一过,“垂垂”老矣的下坡路可就开始喽。当我收到一封晚餐邀请的邮件时,刚刚那条至理名言便随着收件提示音,“叮”的一声从我的脑海闪过。邀请的细节如下:举办人(一个朋友的朋友),菜系(印度菜)以及着装指导(一丝不挂)。这是一个全裸餐会哦。

我当时瞬间石化了。在其他裸体活动——裸泳、淋浴、做爱(skinny dipping, showers, sex)等方面,我都算是个狂热分子啦。但是和宴会(dinner)不一样啊,我喜欢的这些都是字母“s”开头的,这一点似乎很重要。再说,我喜欢的这些都与动态的做事情有关。长期的职业游泳经验告诉我,许多人的裸体之所以吸引人并不在于其身体有任何特别之处,而是在于他们的身体是如何运动的。这就是为什么长得最漂亮的人往往并不是最受人追捧的原因。运动的状态是关键。当我停下来的时候,我的下半身看起来就像是一包豆袋椅。






我走出来,小心翼翼地坐在长椅的毛巾上,两腿交叉紧紧地夹住。参加全裸晚宴就跟当众演讲一样,除非你是主讲人,否则总需要点时间才能搞清楚状况。当Richard给我讲述他在那部重现著名摄影家Diane Arbus生平电影《fur》的客串经历时,我正努力调整自己在长椅上的坐姿,以便自己能看起来更好看或更舒服一点。Richard倒是一点都不藏着掖着:两腿大大的分开,蛋蛋一览无遗。可我并不觉得色情。因为当你看着Richard的时候,你就会明白他为什么要裸体:他看起来就像本就应该裸体一样。如果打分的话,他穿着衣服也就得个2.5,但是当他脱光的时候可以得到7。他很丰满但并不健壮,到处晒成棕褐色,非常享受裸体的状态。他说大部分在家的时间,他都会只穿着这件“真皮外套”。



纽约是这个世界上最不适合天体主义者的地方。这里有严格的禁止暴露的法律,八百万居民甚至连一块天体沙滩都没有。Richard 说他组团的原因不止是因为他有足够的经济实力,更是因为如果没有这样的活动,人们将永远无法理解天体状态下那种无拘无束的感觉。就他而言,这与性毫无关系。


另外,我吃不下。话说有两种人:一种是穿着衣服比较好看(像Gwyneth Paltrow ),一种是脱光才好看(像Pamela Anderson ),而坐在我对面的那位属于前者,她是一个很瘦的银行出纳员,穿的相当妖媚。但是当她脱掉衣服,我虽然说不出原因在哪,但是感觉她又瘦又让人有种说不出的倒胃口。看着她的胸部离面包只有六英寸,我一下子没了食欲。这让我有点愧疚。



  • talentedadj. 有才能的,有天赋的
  • announced宣布的
  • blanketn. 毛毯,覆盖物,排字版 vt. 用毯子裹,扑灭,挡风
  • clipn. 夹子,钳,回形针,弹夹 n. 修剪,(羊毛的)剪下
  • episoden. 插曲,一段情节,片段,轶事
  • enthusiastn. 热心人,热衷者
  • frequentadj. 经常的,频繁的 vt. 常到,常去
  • exceptvt. 除,除外 prep. & conj. 除了 ..
  • appetiten. 嗜好,食欲,欲望
  • unwiseadj. 不聪明的,愚笨的