Dare to bare: Inside the world of naturist swimming

Where we’re going, we don’t need clothes


Dabbles in social nudity are rarely graceful: a combination of carefree, sand-eating days as a naked toddler at the beach and teenage house parties involving too much cheap vodka. Given this, the idea of skinny dipping with a bunch of strangers is slightly terrifying.

Naturist swims are held at many swimming pools across the UK, but before turning up for one it was hard to know what to expect. Maybe I’d have some sort of body-loving epiphany and become a full-blown nudist. Or maybe I’d just go for a paddle with a bunch of oldies and spend the evening avoiding eye contact and stray pubic hairs.

My mother helpfully looked up the “rules” of naturism before my trip. The biggest thing to remember is a towel, which is used when sitting or lying down anywhere for hygiene reasons.  Many of the rules such as this are simply common sense, like not staring at anyone’s genitals, (which is very bad form in most situations). Some rules are more surprising though. For instance, many naturist resorts and attractions discourage or ban the wearing of lingerie, as it is considered too sexualised. For naturists and nudists, being in the buff isn’t meant to be sexy at all.

I would poo my pants (if I had any on)

Every naturist resort, location or attraction you go to will have their own protocol on the thorny issue of erections.  This ranges from the man in question being given a lifetime ban to a fairly nonchalant reaction (looking at you, France). The general advice to chaps who feel something brewing is to simply lie on your front, cover yourself until it subsides, or more worryingly, “get in the pool”. Let’s hope there’s not too much breaststroke.

In typical organised fashion I accidentally arrived at the pool an hour early.  I make the best of it and spend half an hour trying to take a Tab-appropriate naked selfie while cowering in my own locked cubicle. After a while, I’m unsure of when to emerge, hoping there will be some kind of sign the naturism has begun. Instead, I tentatively step into the locker room wrapped in my towel, to witness three other women cheerily stripping off and heading poolside.

Some not-so-helpful advice

Stepping out into the pool for the first time was terrifying. I fought the urge to cover myself with my towel, put my things down and climbed in. It didn’t take long to realise swimming naked felt amazing. No more uncomfortable costumes, and no more worrying if you’re popping out of your tiny bikini top.

I got chatting to two charming older ladies who were regulars. The first told me she was converted to naked swimming after realising how uncomfortable swimsuits can be, particularly the “sand in the crotch” situation. She’d been stripping off for a decade now.

The second woman estimates her time swimming in the buff at closer to thirty years. “We come regularly with our husbands” she explains.

Men are discouraged from attending swims alone by the club, though both women are keen to stress I’m welcome to bring a young man with me any time.

One of them says: “We get a lot of men wanting to come on their own, but we’re worried younger swimmers would be put off by the thought of being surrounded by naked men.”

While the policy may be intended to make the club more appealing, I’m comfortably the youngest swimmer there, apart from a family with two young children who are also regulars.

Clothing, your service is not longer required

Sadly, it seems many naturists feel they have to hide their hobby. One of the women tells me her husband has unsuspecting family members in America. By way of explanation she says: “They live in the Bible Belt”.

It’s a shame naturist swimming would be looked down on or not taken seriously by some people though. The atmosphere is that of any swimming club, just with more skin on show. The people were friendly but not overly so, spending most of their time chatting about their families, how to make the perfect gin and tonic, and their food preferences (“I don’t do pasta.  Looks like the slugs in our garden”).

I’m probably not going to become a regular attendee, but I don’t think I’ll say no to a bit of casual nudity every now and again.  It’s empowering, liberating and fun, so check out what’s on in your area and try getting your kit off sometime.

For more information try the British Naturism homepage.