The Effable Joy of Nudity Pt. 07

Effable (adjective): (1) capable of being uttered or expressed; from the Latin effari. (2) sexually attractive; from the Old Norse fukka.

"Clothing does not become her. Everything that hides her spoils her. It is in the abandonment of clothing that she is truly ravishing." (Pierre Choderlos de Laclos)

Our meeting over, I leave Nathan outside the Academy centre and hasten back to Lakeside Hall. My day's tasks are far from complete. Waiting on the lawn is a group of people, young men and women.

The university's Summer School begins in two days. Participants are alumni and alumnae who are no longer enrolled or have come from other institutions. Some have full-time careers; but all must live on-campus for the duration of the program. So residences such as Lakeside make available their rooms vacated for the summer. A dozen of these students have arrived this morning. As House Committee convenor it's my job to help them settle in, aided by two of my fellow LHC members.

It's always delightful to see the initial reactions of people when they first enter Lakeside Hall. They've heard about it, probably fantasized about it; but confronting the full-frontal reality can be a shock to the system. They will almost certainly have encountered nudity elsewhere on the campus. Here, though not strictly mandatory, it is the convention and is almost universal. Friends and family visit, and sometimes the results can be surreal. There was the time I saw Teresa, naked as the day she was born, showing her parents around her new home. They were conservatively attired but totally unfazed by the nude bodies of their daughter and the other women. Then there was Connor, moving into one of the first-floor rooms. His sister and her husband had brought his belongings from home. When she went upstairs carrying a couple of boxes, the sister was wearing jeans and a colourful patchwork sweater; but when she came back down with the three guys a few minutes later to have lunch in the cafeteria she was nude. I've seen other women enter dressed like polar bears and leave without a stich on.

Boy- and girlfriends are permitted to stay overnight, and the latter always follow the no-clothing etiquette. Indeed, in most cases this is Lakeside's appeal. They can stay longer if there's accommodation available. And the odd thing is that the guys are more likely to feel insecure about their girls being naked in public than the girls are about being naked. (Or maybe not so odd!)

Today's newcomers are just as interesting. Austin has just finished his first year as a student and a Lakeside resident. He introduces his sisters who have enrolled for Summer School. They are both very attractive, a tall brunette in a cream silk blouse and navy blue skirt, and a petite strawberry blonde in a teal-coloured shirt dress; and both are glancing askance at the naked bodies passing in both directions. Alice is an environmental engineer. Her fiancé is overseas doing a feasibility study on something or other; so she's come here for the summer, not as a student but as an instructor. Claire is, by profession, a museum archivist, and she has a girlfriend who is to join her in a couple of days. Whatever their motivation for spending the summer at Lakeside with their baby brother, they know what's expected. No clothes.

The other enrollees are a couple from out of town, Dominic and Bernadette. They are aged their late twenties. She is already naked. Perhaps they are here just for that; but the Summer School is a serious institution with a demanding syllabus.

The six of us go inside, leaving the rest of the group outside waiting for their escorts. As we enter the building, both Felicia and Isabel pass us going out; so everything is fine. Alice and Claire now look tense. That's hardly surprising, but I wonder -- are they nervous because they're the only females in the building who are clothed, or is it because they soon won't be? While in most places it would be the unclad bodies that command the attention, here it's the fully clad women who look out of place, and judging by their expressions feel out of place. But it never takes long to adjust.

At the reception desk sits a young man I have seen a couple of times before, a summer stand-in. He nods approvingly as I remove my sandals and pick them up. But he frowns when I go up to the desk and greet him.

"Good morning, Richard."

He gives me an odd look before he stammers: "Good morning..."

"You have no idea, do you?"

He smiles and shrugs. "Sorry."

I could just tell him my name, but I want him to stew a little. Finally I say: "Last time I was brunette."

There's a glimmer of recognition in his eye. "Of course. Good morning, Ms Ryan."

"Oh, please, Kate."

He glowers. "Good morning, Ms Ryan," he repeats.

"Fair enough!" I have no better rejoinder.

A few months ago I would have teased him: "Who looks at faces these days?" But I don't think things have changed. The guys have learnt to be more discreet. Most of us don't mind the looking, but the ogling can get tiresome. So I think that, on the whole, CMNF might be harder on the males.

It's not just an issue of knowing where to look and how long to look, and the difference between a glance, a stare, a gawk and a leer. For while it's most young men's fantasy to be surrounded by naked women all the time, males can be shy too. And there's such a thing as sensory overload.

For all the initial discomfort it's we, the naked ones, who quickly adapt. Life continues essentially as normal except that you're not wearing any clothes. (But it's not necessarily 24/7 nor all-year round. Some clothing is necessary when the temperature drops.) You get used to the gaze and you even start to worry when you don't get it.

But anyway, the point is that when you cannot change your clothes to match your mood, there's always your hair.

Our first destination is the second floor, where we leave Dominic and Bernadette. Then we head up to the next, where Austin's room is located. He's managed to reserve beds for his sisters on the same floor, though they have different rooms. I wonder if he's seen them naked yet. If not, it will be an interesting first encounter. It usually is. Seeing your sisters naked, perhaps for the very first time, definitely for the first time so overtly; being naked in front of your young brother; either way thisdoes take a bit of getting used to!

The corridor is unusually crowded for this time of day, although at this time of year there's no hurry to get to places. There are a couple of guys leaving one of the communal bathrooms. One of the males is wearing a bathrobe and the other has a large towel wrapped around his hips. The latter has a fine chest and very nice abs. However, full male nudity is prohibited. Yet I doubt that this is a rule which would need to be enforced. It's not just about accentuating the difference between CM and NF. For a male to wander about in a state of undress would be disrespectful to the females.

I knock on one of the doors. This is where Alice will be staying. From the other side I hear a muffled voice calling "Just a minute." And after just a minute, the door opens.

"Good morning. You're right on time." Rachel brushes back a strand of wet hair from her forehead, then with a flourish waves us across the threshold.

This is a vastly different Rachel from the timid, insecure young woman I encountered when CMNF was first becoming popular. She's nowadays self-assured in and prideful of her nudity. She presents herself to Austin and then gives his sisters the once-over and crinkles her nose. "Those duds will have to come off," she's thinking.

Rachel is doing postgrad research at the Genderism Institute. She self-describes as a masochistic feminist and is studying the Freud-Krafft-Ebing notion that masochism is an inherent part of female identity in general and sexuality in particular. I won't go into the details, but she subscribes to the principle of submission and adversity being integral to femaleness, indeed the price we pay for being the superior sex. (Her words, not mine.) On this I disagree; but the idea is that female acquiescence to male authority and privilege, along with the self-abnegation and self-sacrifice it entails, is a manifestation of the moral, emotional and spiritual superiority of the feminine over the masculine. In essence, no man would or should put up with the burdens that we females bear as a matter of course, so we bear them uniquely. It's not some sort of penalty for being born female, but rather our reward! So yes, it's complicated; but the gist is that Rachel believes that, in the CMNF formula, NF is the expression and symbol of womanhood, femininity and submission; whereas the CM element represents men's acknowledgement and appreciation of this. In other words, men wear the pants, and everything else, as a gesture of respect, to honour the virtues of the female symbolized by her nudity. (Here endeth the lesson.)

I'm sure she and Alice will have some enthralling late-night debates over cocoa. Just down the hall Claire will have the room to herself for a couple of days, until Emmaline joins her.

Emmaline and Claire are gay. It's a mistake to believe that CMNF is strictly a heterosexual phenomenon. There are numerous lesbian and bisexual relationships at Lakeside Hall. And it has occurred to me that while it's a sublime experience for all us women, it must be especially so for those who get to enjoy nudity's sensual pleasures as both viewer and doer. And I'm not saying I don't appreciate the visual appeal of the nude female; of course I do; it's just that I don't have that extra layer of perception. I wish I did, but that's how it is.

There are gay guys as well, and some people may find it strange that they would want a place here. Because CMNF, no matter how you rationalize it, is inherently sexual. Emmanuel (no relation to Emmaline), whom I've known since my schoolgirl days, has told me that the natural beauty of the female body does not have to be just about sexual attraction. He can appreciate the aesthetics. But there's more. He also studies at the Genderism Institute. His academic and personal interest is in the complex interplay of sex roles and gender identity which lies at the heart of the CMNF experience.

Transgenderism and transsexuality, intersexuality, gender variance and non-conformance do have, as I've mentioned, a role in CMNF culture; but I fear that my exposition is becoming tediously palaverous.

The day is barely half over. I head back across the campus and through the Village. On the boundary between the commercial district and the academic precinct is the headquarters of the Student Union.

The Union represents forty thousand students. Membership confers free access to a wide range of services and facilities. As well, the Union advocates for causes of concern to students, sponsors and organizes social, cultural and recreational activities, and disburses funds to various affiliates and campus-based clubs. Student politics at the university have always been consensus-focused; elections are genteel affairs. As a result there has been little factionalism or argumentation... nor much excitement. I was nominated to run for a position on its governing Council but decided I had too much on my proverbial plate already. Nevertheless, as chairwoman of the Lakeside House Committee I have been invited to sit in on this "special" session.

In the corridor outside the meeting room I'm greeted by Camille, the Union's president. Diminutive and deceptively frail-looking, she is nonetheless possessed of a formidable intellect and willpower; and under her leadership the Union has been revitalized and student participation has increased dramatically.

Camille is naked.

In the meeting room the Union Councillors have yet to take their seats. Females comprise two-thirds of their number and most are nude. Nevertheless, when I enter the males look me over. I wait for them to finish. I'm not bothered by the scrutiny and none of the guys are at all shy about it. They've seen me naked many times; they deal constantly with nude women; but they always look. It's not just (or even) about titillation; it's their homage, a salute or tribute to our nudity.

Not being male (with no particular desire to be), and not pretending to understand the masculine psyche, I can only imagine what is like to be a young guy and most of your fellow students, your colleagues, mentors, lecturers and professors are nude females. I'm thinking again of Nathan. Obviously they get accustomed to it, but are never satiated, as the responses of the Councillors attest.

The women who are wearing clothes, outnumbered by both the males and naked females, don't appear to queasy or uneasy. Like the men, they're getting used to the nudity... and probably wondering when, not if, they should join the trend.

Indeed, that is the subject of today's meeting. Interestingly, the clothed women sit together on one side, in almost a defensive huddle, while the naked ones are interspersed among the males.

The topic of discussion is a Council resolution which a year ago would have been controversial, two years ago unthinkable. Female nudity is to be permitted on all parts of the campus, including classrooms, lecture halls and libraries, student housing and all commercial, cultural and recreational premises, except where health and safety issues take precedence. Any such ordinance will require approval from the University Senate; but the Union Council represents forty thousand voices, and the resolution is passed unanimously.

As I leave the meeting, I have a premonition... that just a few years hence I will be part of a movement to promote the joy of nudity on university campuses across the nation.

My day is far from over; but I think I've made my point.