The second naturist walk of the year for me today.
Last year I kept finding myself idly working out what the best thing to wear would be that allowed for easy undressing and dressing, or temporarily covering up, without hopping around on one leg or pushing muddy boots through pairs of trousers.
“What I need,” I thought, “is basically a t-shirt that carries on into a wrap, so I can just pull it over my head and bypass the muddy boots through trousers / hopping problem entirely. Recently I realised that I had invented a dress…. So I bought one. Got a black one, because I am a man. Figured I might use it for running on occasion so got one with a vest top that ended above the knee. Little Adidas logo. Sorted.
I wore it today for the first time.
I was quite self-conscious walking up to the pub so I had a coat on over the top, but the skirt bit was very obvious. Quite figure-hugging too. In fact the figure-hugging part applied throughout. On the way to the clothes-off part of the walk I was chatting to Dave and Euan about my decision, outlining what I mentioned above about the tactical benefits of donning and doffing, but the hard-to-reconcile downside of feeling unexpectedly sexy.
“Would it help if I told you that I’m not finding you sexy?” Asked Euan kindly.
“Yes. Thank you.”
Shortly, the coat was becoming a bit warm so I took it off and stuffed it in my bag. From behind I heard Euan’s voice,
“Sorry! I have to take that back!”
So I’m stuck with an unexpected LBD, the pros of which still outweigh the cons, but which causes intrapsychic conflict that I hadn’t planned for…
