I would never have expected to start my 70th year lying starkers in the middle of a major capital city bridge at 5:00am, back pressing into cold wet bitumen, surrounded by 5,500 equally naked people of all shapes and sizes.
I’m not an exhibitionist by any stretch of the imagination. I don’t feel particularly good about my body or my weight. Nothing about the idea felt safe or comfortable. But as the old adage goes, you only live once.
For the majority of Brisbane residents posing for world-renowned photographer Spencer Tunick last weekend, this would have been an experience way outside the comfort zone. But with a great risk came great reward. By all accounts, virtually every participant finished the morning having experienced something profound and life-affirming.
Lesson 1: Anything is normal when 5,500 people are doing it
The human brain is a funny thing. If a stadium-sized crowd of people is getting undressed, the instinct to fit in is overwhelming.
After a very early morning start (2:30am call time!) and a lengthy wait in the cold rain, the masses gathered on the Story Bridge for Spencer’s briefing.
The unspoken question on everybody’s minds: What if I can’t find my clothes afterwards? We were immediately reassured that they’d be in a clearly marked, well-supervised drop-off area.
When the call came to disrobe, the crowd divided into two distinct parts: clothed people leaving the bridge, and naked people returning. The sight of the latter was startling only for a few seconds, but became more and more normal with each passing seconds.
In fact, when the naked people began to outweigh the clothed, the last to get undressed looked far more self-conscious and embarrassed! Within minutes it was the most normal thing in the world.
When we learned the next location would be the Brisbane River Walk, in plain view of ferry passengers and wealthy mansion residents, we could only laugh in delight.
Roads and walkways were closed to the public, but when we did encounter occasional clothed witnesses, we could only cheer and wave. We were empowered by a true sense of safety in numbers; the clothed minority were the only ones who felt embarrassed and out-of-place.
Lesson 2: You’re at your least body-conscious – and least judgemental – when naked
Amazingly, when you have nothing to hide, you stop thinking about the image you present to the world. When all is said and done, everybody basically has the same bits.
I found myself less conscious of my own body than I have ever been. Not once did I feel then need to glimpse down and see what others were seeing.
The question of “how do I look at other people?” became a moot point. When nude is normal, your eyes scan and acknowledge others in exactly the same way they would otherwise.
I thought I’d feel at my most vulnerable without clothing. Truthfully, it’s about the most confident and assured I’d ever felt.
Lesson 3: No body is perfect
When you’re surrounded by attendees of all all ages, genders and sizes, you’ll see the cliche is right: everybody is beautiful.
Even the most conventionally attractive people all had scars, folds, birthmarks, and telltale marks of a life well lived.
I had feared that the human instinct to compare and contrast would be at its worst, but when everybody’s on equal footing, our differences truly do feel like the most superficial thing.
Lesson 4: You can find a moment of perfect serenity anywhere
For me, the aforementioned moment lying on the bridge was an almost meditative experience. Nobody before now had seen the sky through the bridge from this perspective, and perhaps nobody would again.
5,500 people lay in perfect silence. When the call came to sit up, it felt like I’d awoken from a very pleasant nap.
Then many participants learned an unexpected bonus lesson: it turns out that certain types of skin folds on the back will make a perfect suction against wet bitumen. A suction that, when broken, sounded exactly like a loud fart. Enormous waves of laughter ensued.
Lesson 5: After a couple of hours naked in a major city with 5,500 others, it’s strangely disappointing to put your clothes back on
I thought it was a once in a lifetime experience, but I get the feeling most participants would do it again in a heartbeat. And I’ll be first in line to join them.