A Brief History of Nakedness

I just read a book review in The Economist (yes, I read that sometimes, preferably without pants) of a book that sounds intriguing. The review, which you can read here, calls it "thought-provoking, if somewhat frustrating" for what it overlooks.



There's so much in our lives that just assume or don't think about that it's important to step back and think about such things some times. We are born naked. Someone, somewhere, some time decided you should wear clothes, even though they never knew you and never would. Why?

Despite its described flaws, I've added this book to my very long reading list.

Here's the obligatory Amazon link.

NUDITY!!!!

I had two thoughts related to nudity late in the day today.

1. I wish I could go to work naked. I could be more relaxed, even as I performed drudgery, if I were pantsless. The main problem is that I can't think of a reason my co-workers wouldn't/couldn't be naked, too, if they so choose, and that would make going to work even more dreadful.

2. Today, I was listening to the record that defined my generation. The cover says it all.



Yes, it's Nirvana's "Nevermind," with the naked baby, winkie in full view, chasing Almighty God-Dollar. The watershed moment of my generation had absolutely nothing to do with pants.

I was doomed, of course.

I just started taking guitar lessons and one of the first things I learned was the riff from "Come As You Are." (I play it considerably slower - so much so that you'd have a hard identifying it as that, even when I don't screw it up.)

That naked baby, Spencer Elden, just turned 18. We're all so proud.

Actually, we're Gen-Xers. We define aloof. We really don't care.

Meh.

Boo pants!

Wrong headed people

I'm sorry for not posting in awhile. Sadly, I'm busy at work. Which means wearing pants. Which is just depressing.

Speaking of depressing, I just found this article describing these pants that punish and demean you for eating too much. While I hate pants, and I hate that feeling when your pants start to get tight because you've eaten too much, haven't exercised enough, or both, I cannot approve of these.

In happier news, Ned needs your help. His goal may be questionable, but I like to think he's just out to recover his hard-earned property. Poor Ned just needs to relax and stop wearing tighty whiteys.

But we'll help No-Pants Ned along his way here in this fun little free flash game. There are a couple of (disturbing, though perfectly safe for work) click-throughs.

Too Long in the Wasteland

There are times you need to wear pants. This may seem antithetical to the movement, but it's not.

For instance, last weekend my wife and I picked blackberries. I wore shorts. I have the scratches to prove it. While it was my time to do with as I pleased, pants should have been required.

Boo.

When I started this blog, I hoped to highlight the positive about pantslessness. I track news stories that use phrases such as "no pants" or "without pants" or "pantsless." However, far too many of the stories that arrive in my inbox are ones like this one:

Woman finds pantsless stranger sleeping in her bed

Perverts set our movement behind. Drunks set our movement behind. The insane set our movement behind. Drunken insane perverts really set our movement behind.

Although they all are amusing at times.

Pants must be seen for what they are - a necessity at times, but also a powerful sign of the hegemony under which we all live.

Are you going to wear pants this weekend?

From the Twitterverse

I don't know @blondediva11 in real life, but I follow her (I'm assuming her) on Twitter because she's very entertaining. For instance, she uses a cheeky picture of Marilyn Monroe (at least I think it's Marilyn though it's hard to tell in that little box) as her icon.

Then today she posted this:

"Stupid fashion gurus. I already know "What Not to Wear." They're called pants, people. Get with the program."

Yesterday, all my troubles were in my pants!!!!

While I write about the evil that is pants here, generally this blog is meant to throw a humorous light on the hegemony of pants, particularly in the workplace.

Yesterday, though, my pants couldn't have been more irritating if they'd be made from porcupine quills. I couldn't wait to be home and be rid of them.

Sometimes all a man wants is to lay on the couch in his underwear, watch TV, and eat Cheetos.

I didn't watch TV. I didn't eat Cheetos. But I did crash on the couch in my boxer briefs and let the AC wash over me.

Our cats looked on in terror.

With apologies to the Beatles

Yesterday, my wife came home (Hooray!). She travels a lot around the state for her job.

Anyway, she was driving along the highway when she saw something she said would have made me very happy.

A discarded pair of pants just left on (and in) the road.

I envision jeans or blue work pants. I like the contrast of the blue against the gray of the pavement.

Anyway, the fun part of this story is imagining how they got there. With the recent flooding, unfortunately, there are a number of possibilities, some quite sad.

However, I choose to think of someone casting them aside as they sped down the road in a convertible, with the top-down and wind flowing through their hair and whipping the pants legs around. A beautiful moment of audacious freedom from the hegemony of clothing!

Woohoo!