In the days of yore we spread on the sand, laid in leaves, and frolicked in fields, with our bare cheeks soaking up the sunbeams. Now our cheeks, backs, calves, and pecs are captive; trapped under layers of rough linens, corduroy, and polyester-cotton blend. Clothing is our captor. When you step into the great outdoors, what do you see? Are there squirrels in jorts? Sparrows in blazers? No. Our flesh in our apparel. We reside within a jolly skin suit. To obtain true bliss, we must strip ourselves. Dance in the daylight. Prance in the pure air. And accept our forms for what they are.

Unless it’s just kinda chilly outside, or you really feel like wearing clothes for support, then go ahead, put on a sweatshirt.

Sometimes I respect clothes. As a mode of self expression they’re quite handy, and you can make a statement without smattering a syllable. Personally in my clothes selection is typically guided by answering the question, “what alternate reality do I wanna manifest today?” Somedays I feel the need to be a grill-dad. Someday I’ve decided today I need to be very slippery. But what do I do on the days when the alternate reality whispering sweet nothings in my ear is a nude one?

The laws forbidding us from freeing our flesh are simply afraid of the absolute power we would all wield without suede shackles. Without clothing we are 36% stronger, our blood is 23% more iron rich, and we can perform geometric constructions with 74% more haste. Or something like that. In renaissance paintings there’s a reason all of the naked people are dancing. They’re invigorated. Through communing with their giblets bared they connect with the natural world, each other, and themselves. Nudity is the barest form of self expression.

The raw human vessel has become scary in our society. That’s unacceptable. We shouldn’t have to be afraid of ourselves or feel that our own flesh is letting us down. Through shedding our layers we can cultivate comfort with bodies. View bodies as simply bodies. Nothing more. Nothing less.

I stand on the pinnacle of a lofty summit. Fresh and free as the moment I popped into the world. My birthday suit is pressed and clean. My pores are gobbling up the crisp mountain breeze. Thanks to nudity my heart beats in sync with the universe.

Clothing Review: ★★☆☆☆