I’m a naked person. Always have been. It’s my go-to, my baseline if you will. I’m naked right now, in fact. OK, that’s not true. I’m in the office, and in the interest of avoiding awkward situations at the workplace and Whole Foods, I shelve this habit for hours at a time. (Although I never go as far as wearing a bra and try to avoid skirts that have a lot of fabric.)
But if I’m home, I am without clothes. (The gym is a different story—people who walk around naked in the locker room give me the creeps.) I’d like to say this started when I had kids—we’d all come home after a long day in a dirty city, they’d take off their clothes and get in the bath, I’d take off my clothes and…make dinner. But the truth is that I’ve been a naked person forever.
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There’s no record of me even wearing shoes until I was about three years old, when my father had just bought me a pair of clogs (don’t judge, we lived in Sweden) and refused to carry me across hot pavement. I quickly accepted that clogs were better than a second-degree burn on the soles of my feet.
Anyway. When you’re a naked person, beauty products skew a little differently. I have at this moment in my shower 182 salt scrubs. I recently commandeered every razor blade in the Allure beauty closet. And the self-tanner. Let’s agree to say there’s a lot of it (and St. Tropez still makes the best). But face masks? Meh. Eye cream? Never even owned one.
Are there downsides to being naked? Sure. My husband recently spent a lot of money on new window treatments, for one thing. (And pointed out that we probably don’t have to tip the UPS guy this Christmas.) Of course, when your spouse sees you empty the dishwasher and cook mac and cheese in your birthday suit, maybe the thrill of nudity is somewhat less thrilling.
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But man, the upsides. When you’re with your naked self all the time, you (meaning I) get a lot more intimate with it. Oh, grow up. I mean that you (meaning I) accept parts that might otherwise be hidden under a layer of cotton. Your imperfections—and you’ll forgive me if I don’t point them out specifically—are less hateful when you see them all the time. Plus, it cuts down on laundry.
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I am of the mind that we’d all be happier people if we were naked even for 20 minutes a day. We’d be more accepting of ourselves, we’d be more accepting of our bodies, and I bet we’d be more accepting of each other. I’m not talking exhibitionism here. I’m talking about tooling around your house the same way you always do—just without clothes on.
So try it. Take off your clothes and throw them in the laundry, order FreshDirect (remember: no Whole Foods), maybe pay a few bills. If you get cold, put on slippers. Maybe make a phone call or two. Organize your beauty products and turn the Rolling Stones way the hell up.
Enjoy the naked. Don’t rush it. Besides, you’ll need a good 20 minutes for the St. Tropez to dry anyway.
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