“It’s the opposite of dissociation,” says Dr. Harding. “It forces mindfulness. You feel the sun on your skin, the breeze on your back. You are present in your sensory experience rather than trapped in your critical thoughts.” Far from dying out, naturism is rebranding. The old stereotype of the retired, beer-bellied man is being replaced by "Nude Yoga" in Brooklyn lofts, naked hiking clubs in the Swiss Alps, and "World Naked Bike Ride" protests against fossil fuels in London and Portland.
For the uninitiated, this scene might trigger a single, obvious question: Isn’t that just about sex? But for the growing global community of naturists—estimated at over 5 million in the US alone—the removal of clothing isn’t a prelude to arousal. It is a deliberate, daily practice of unlearning shame. It is, arguably, the most radical form of body positivity on the planet. To understand why naturism is surging among millennials and Gen Z, you first have to look at the crisis of the "filtered body."
In the absence of fabric, the hierarchy of the body collapses. Without Spanx to hide a belly or lifts to add height, the human form reveals its glorious asymmetry. One shoulder higher than the other. A mastectomy scar. Psoriasis. Stretch marks like lightning bolts.
Naturists have a saying: "You don't wear your best suit to the beach, so don't bring your best body."