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Perspective.
Metal
Fatigue!!
By Liz Egger
In which I encounter nudist
piercings.
( From October 2006)
It was the last thing I expected to see in such a
place. At Cap d'Agde, yes. At Hedonism, probably.But a peaceful nudist site tucked away in the
depths of rural England? It was enough to send me into a decline. I grabbed another bottle of wine
to steady myself.
This was my first close encounter with what I now
know is called a "Prince Albert"
For those of you who don't know about these things,
a "PA", as it is called by the cognoscenti, is the
name given to a particular style of body piercing whereby the penis or scrotum (not sure which, and it didn't seem polite to peer too closely - besides, I'm squeamish) is pierced and adorned with a steel ring, or bar. Or in this particular case, both.
Apparently it is named after Queen Victoria's
husband. He was an early devotee of the fashion, as it enabled him, in those days of tight court
trousers, to control which side he would "dress". Unfortunately history doesn't record Victoria's
opinion of the practice, but I bet she wasn't amused.
Anyway, here was I, on my own turf as it were,
being introduced to a naked man with enough stainless steel decorating his nether regions to
set off an airport alarm.
It was not attractive.
I shook his hand gently, fearful that too vigorous
a movement would set the whole ensemble swinging
and clanking like wind chimes in a gale. As we exchanged pleasantries I was conscious of a
distracting glint emanating from his lower slopes. It was an unnerving experience, and when it was
over I was glad to retire to my sun-bed (and the previously mentioned second bottle) to regain my
composure.
I know I may be damaging my street-cred as a
laid-back, hippy chick, and I realise that some of you won't agree with me, but I, personally, find
genital piercing One Great Big Turn-off! It is unlovely, unhygienic, exhibitionistic and offensive,
and to tell you the truth I can't help wondering whether some of it's
devotees are naturists for the wrong reasons.
Now, please bear with me on this. I'm not accusing
anyone of having an ulterior motive. I know some
of you see it differently, but I want to explain my point of view.
Surely, by piercing and adorning the genitals,
the piercee is clearly and quite deliberately directing attention specifically at the sex organs.
Now, call me a suspicious old trott if you like.
But wouldn't the aim of this be to make an unmistakable sexual statement? And if so, by
welcoming the genitally pierced into the nudist family, aren't we accepting that the flaunting of
such a powerful sexual signal is acceptable behaviour within our ranks ?
What next? Erections?
Genuine naturism is about freedom, fresh air,
relaxation, friendship and ... well, naturism. It celebrates the WHOLE body, not just those parts
which are normally kept secret. Whilst I personally don't disapprove of a little hedonistic
pleasure within the movement, I think we should discourage overtly sexual displays, and be aware
that SOME of those who use the nudist environment to aggressively advertise their genitalia MAY just
have a hidden agenda - and one which doesn't square with the nudist ethos.
So please, all you genitally pierced nudists out
there, think of delicate souls like me. You have every right to decorate yourself in whatever way
you see fit, but remember that we are nudists, not exhibitionists. By offering your genitals for
public consumption (if you'll pardon the expression) you run the risk that your motives- which are, I'm sure, pure and genuine - will
be misunderstood.
So next time you attend a nude event, why not
leave the steelwork at home? You won't heal over in a few hours, and you'll spare the blushes of
the rest of us.
Anyway, back to my new acquaintance with the
"PA". He went home after an hour or two, and hasn't beenseen since. Maybe it was something I said.
As for me, I spent the rest of the afternoon in a
pleasant alcoholic haze, having accidentally polished off my entire second bottle of wine,
purely, you understand, to combat the effects of my Post Prince Albert Stress Disorder.
Or perhaps I should call it metal fatigue?
'Til next time,
Liz
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