Growing up my mum was constantly reminding me that I needed to put more clothes on when folks dropped by the house. Ok, not to be a brat or anything but shorts were invented for the purpose of wearing them am I right! Anyway, I grew up on an island. Not only that, I grew up in the countryside. Think lots of trees and a great deal of rivers and the ocean a mere skip and a jump away. Why the hell would I want to wear clothes when a simple bathing suit would do?As I grew older it was my brother who took offense at my choice of clothing. As a track and field athlete you do not want to restrict your movement dear friends so of course spandex and sports bras were the rage with me. Oh but brother dearest banned me from his social life. He was not to be seen with the ‘back flipping - javelin throwing - love wearing very little clothing sister’. I was banished. The question remained, would I choose my comfort over my blood. Guess what? I wore his trousers and his shirt and even his shoes. Braided up my hair like a hippie and prowled the town looking like a tomboy.
The girls found me rather attractive as a boy (of course they had no idea that I was merely imitating one), and the boys - well lets just say I always got along with the opposite - same sex that day. My brother was less than thrilled and he called my parents with every threat imaginable to banish me from his entire existence. Needless to say his pleas did not fall on deaf ears and mummy called to say that she was proud of me for wearing clothes for once in my life. That ought to have taught him. My dad as usual remained quiet and one evening when I walked into the house told me that I should remain true to myself. My father hardly ever says anything unless he's trippy or had a few so imagine my delight. I have followed his advice ever since.
These days I am wearing a lot more clothes but that does not mean that I don't like dressing down a bit now and then. Of course now I live in the United States and the tri-state area tends to get a bit cold in the winter time. Oh heck what am I talking about, it’s usually freezing. Which is why I have those wonderful pictures to remind me of the days when clothes were optional.
And so I dedicate this to all the folks out there who, after a hard days work just like to breathe a little. To all of you who are scared to show a bit of skin or have been hiding a slight gut for a few months now. It is to the man who is scared of being true to himself and the young woman afraid that someone will judge harshly. I say screw the critics yes! How about you do this one for yourself. After all, it does feel good to defy silly expectations.
So go bare and don't care...well feel free to leave a little to the imagination actually. Never hurts. And to my big brother who's all grown up now...ha ha. I get to create posts like these and remember the days of opression. Just so you know. Eat my shorts Anderson Stoute!
Who said I hated clothes anyway? I just don't like much.
