It’s an idea that would horrify most of us. But it could be the key to loving your body.
As Jaqui Dowling is the first to admit, it’s not been easy to cast off a lifetime of bodily inhibitions. Her first attempt, on a girlie holiday to Ireland when she was in her late 30s, ended in utter humiliation.
‘My friends persuaded me to go skinny dipping but then ran off with my clothes to the far side of the beach so I couldn’t grab my towel as soon as I came out of the water,’ she says.
‘I felt sick inside. Being naked around others was alien to me. My mother believed you had to be dressed before facing the world. I’d never even let my own children see me naked, let alone my friends. I felt as embarrassed at seeing their bodies as I did about revealing my own.’
What’s so intriguing, though, is that her initial shock at having to bare all has gradually, over the years, morphed into an acceptance which has culminated in these wonderful photographs — images of Jaqui, now 48, along with friends Pat Crabtree, 60, who runs a family learning consultancy, Sharon Jervis, 55, a retired graphic designer, and finance manager Judith Bunting, 49, in all their naked glory. Their ten-year friendship literally stripped bare.
In posing for these photographs, the four friends break what many middle-aged women consider taboo: revealing their naked form in front of each other. What’s more, their obvious ease and camaraderie suggests they have found the answer to combating the low self-esteem that affects so many women.
Jaqui’s unveiling is most British women’s nightmare. We simply don’t do public nudity. While we will comfortably share our deepest thoughts and secrets with female friends, we baulk at the idea of stripping off in front of them.
Think about it. When we go shopping for clothes we wrestle them on and off in tiny cubicles; hot, bothered and desperately hoping no one catches a glimpse through a crack in the curtain. At swimming pools or gyms we dance around under towels, determined not to flash any flesh.
How so very different to the changing room next door, where men are only too happy to strip down and parade around naked, without a second thought.
Yet why are we so frightened of being seen by a member of our own sex, whose body is never going to be all that different from our own?
Even at home, we undress out of sight of our children. Never mind post-Victorian primness: 21st-century British women have become more prudish than ever.
‘They certainly have,’ says clinical psychologist Dr David Holmes, who blames the political correctness that first took hold in the Noughties.
‘In the Seventies, we began to break away from the priggishness that was so synonymous with being British and took a much more liberal approach to nudity.
‘Clothes shops opened communal changing rooms and no one was particularly reticent about walking around naked in the changing rooms at the local pool.
‘But what a brief revolution it was. We find ourselves terrified of nudity because we associate it with potential impropriety and load it with sexual connotations.
‘Communal changing rooms have gone, replaced with cubicles so small they aren’t fit for purpose. PE teachers send pupils home sweaty rather than risk being accused of some terrible crime if they insist they shower.
‘Meanwhile, we have mothers scared to be seen naked in front of their kids in case they mention it at school and the whole thing gets misconstrued.
‘You end up with the two places where you are most influenced as a child — school and home — bogged down with such paranoia that girls are indoctrinated in the same way they were a century ago that the female form is something to hide.’
Jaqui, an artist from Sheffield who is now single and has three children aged 25, 28 and 30, grew up in a household where nudity was frowned upon by her mother, a seamstress, and, as a result, always associated nakedness with a deep sense of embarrassment.
‘Mum made all her own clothes and always said that it was how you dress that was important and as a child I don’t ever remember seeing her naked,’ she says.
‘I can remember at school feeling horribly awkward in the changing rooms during PE lessons — I was a scrawny thing with a boyish body surrounded by my fellow teens who had started their periods and developed lovely curves.
‘I have never felt comfortable revealing my body to men either, and even in the throes of passion I have always preferred the lights to be off. It was the same with my children’s father.
‘After I had my children that prudishness even extended to the school gates. I’d always cover up, even in scorching weather and I was particularly self conscious about my boobs, or lack of them — I’m a 34B. I was a real prude when I first met Pat locally through friends, but her more relaxed attitudes rubbed off.’
Certainly that holiday with friends in Ireland when Jaqui was 38 was pivotal in changing her attitude towards nudity.
‘It was Pat who cajoled me into joining her and others skinny dipping in the sea,’ says Jaqui.
‘I insisted on keeping my knickers on, so the others teased me by moving my clothes to the other end of the beach. It was mortifying but I learnt a lot from that.
‘Since then, being in situations where I’ve seen my friends in a state of undress has forced me to embrace my own body. We’ve been on many holidays — and in and out each other’s bedrooms or in pool changing rooms in a state of undress.
‘Each time, I’ve become a little bit less self-conscious and the more I dropped my own guard and the more I saw them naked too, the easier it became.
‘I realised it didn’t bother them and there was no longer anything to worry about. Being exposed to their imperfections has made me much more accepting of my own.’
Jaqui’s renaissance is something to celebrate in an age when the most recent research sees just 20 per cent of British women happy with their figures. A survey by Dove in 2015 revealed that more than half of us are so out of touch with what we look like nude, that we wouldn’t recognise our own bodies in a naked line-up.
Friends for more than a decade, having met through a combination of work and living locally, the four women pictured on this page have grown comfortable with seeing each other naked.
And while this happened largely through circumstance rather than design, the result has been insightful for them all and has strengthened their relationship.
‘As we’ve aged, I’ve clocked how our bodies have altered,’ admits Jude, who is married to Phil, 50, a mechanic, with whom she has two children, a son, 22, and a daughter who’s 24.
‘Sharon and I have both put a bit of weight on around the middle. Pat doesn’t like the scarring on one leg from varicose vein surgery.
‘But being positive about my body, flaws and all, has made such a difference and it has helped ensure my daughter also has a healthy image of herself.’
For Pat, too, this refreshing openness has given her a reassuring perspective. ‘For many women my age nudity is taboo but it’s made me realise I’m not that bad for 60,’ she says. ‘I used to have gorgeous legs that were lithe and smooth, but my pregnancies left me with very obvious varicose veins and it knocked my self-confidence.
‘I had an operation to remove them in my late 20s but rather than boosting my body image, it left me with scarring. Until this year, I hadn’t worn dresses for almost 30 years because I did everything I could to hide my legs. Nor had I worn a bikini because I didn’t like the way my stomach has got rounder with age.
‘But Sharon encouraged me to wear a bikini on a holiday in Malta this summer. It was hard at first, but I have now discovered a new care-free attitude to my body.’
Sharon is determined to cast off any body insecurities for the sake of her two daughters, 26 and 33. ‘I don’t want them to feel anxious about their bodies,’ she says.
‘I’m not going to deny that it would be lovely to be that slender again but the simple fact is that I’m not 25 anymore.
‘When I turned 50 I reached a point where I decided I was no longer too fussed about what my body looks like naked. It feels so liberating.’ Mothers, says Dr Holmes, shouldn’t underestimate just how much their attitude towards their own bodies rubs off on their daughters.
‘She’s showing that bodies change over the course of a lifetime and you don’t need to feel ashamed by that,’ he says.
‘Being naked doesn’t only have to be a sexualised scenario.’
Judith, meanwhile, credits a stint working as a nurse for giving her a respect for the sheer mechanical brilliance of the human body.
Interestingly, experts say part of the problem we Brits have with nudity in front of other women is the lack of opportunity we get to study our fellow females’ forms. Our inclement weather means we have to cover up more than our Mediterranean counterparts.
That lack of exposure appears to be damaging us at a neurological level. Dr Lynda Boothroyd, a senior psychology lecturer at Durham University, has researched how brains decide what a body should look like and how that impacts on our sense of self-worth.
‘Every time the brain sees an image of [a body], that then becomes incorporated into an internal prototype,’ she says. But considering the average weight of a British woman is 11st, a body size you are unlikely to see in a magazine, that internal prototype soon becomes skewed.
‘What we are categorically not accustomed to seeing is normal, naked bodies,’ she explains.
‘We don’t see older women’s bodies or post-pregnancy bodies. We don’t let our fellow women see our puckered and saggy tummies after we’ve had our children, or how our breast tissue changes as we age.
‘Even the ones in the media of women who’ve given birth are mainly of those who’ve put a lot of work into looking like they were never pregnant in the first place.
‘Little wonder then that we look down at our own bodies and feel they are distinctly lacking.’
Meanwhile, our ever-expanding waistlines don’t help, says Dr Holmes. ‘Some people don’t want to face up to how overweight they are so they keep their clothes on.’
And if we aren’t hiding our bodies then we are criticising them. What woman hasn’t passed the self-deprecating baton around with friends over a bottle of wine when the subject crops up?
Confidence coach Jo Painter says women need to change the conversations they have with each other about their bodies. ‘The worst people for fat-shaming are women themselves,’ she says. ‘We’ll start feeling better about our bodies if we stop going backwards and forwards with the personal body-shaming.’
A good place to start with feeling better about your own body, suggests Jo, is to spend more time without any clothes on.
‘I don’t mean standing in front of a full-length mirror and appraising yourself from top to toe,’ she says.
‘Instead, start doing your hair and putting on your make-up before you get dressed. You’ll automatically catch glimpses of your body and realise you look OK.
‘When we’re naked we feel vulnerable and open to rejection. It might be a cliché, but the more accepting you are of yourself the less afraid of rejection you become.’
Jaqui admits that she will never feel entirely at ease with revealing her body to others. But her relationship with it now is the best it has ever been.
‘Perhaps I am finally reaching a point in my life as 50 looms when I’m ready to accept my body as it is and be thankful for it,’ she says.
‘I was really nervous before the shoot. But to my surprise taking part was so liberating. I confronted my fears and felt such elation afterwards.
‘It has given me the most wonderful confidence boost.’
Daily Mail