Naturism

Owning My Nakedness (& my blood)

There is a photo of me as a child aged about 5, walking in a field of long grass on a Summer’s day with my Dad. It would have been around 1982. I’m smiling and very much in a happy place. I’m also naked. Dad isn’t, but that hadn’t seemed odd at the time. His hair is a bit wild and beard looking very 70s, the way I remember him when I was young. Hair-wise, he has returned to a similar state since lockdown, but that’s another story. The point is, I was naked and free, and without a sense of shame. How very fortunate in all sorts of ways. An image like that now can provoke hysteria in the media or just in people’s heads, such is the cultural taboo firstly around any kind of nakedness, but much more than that, a child’s nakedness. Innocence has been removed/hidden/safeguarded. It is of course absolutely necessary that paedophilia is finally being addressed, but in the all encompassing sweep to save children from it, we have lost an important part of childhood. Society so often can’t handle nuance. One of the safeguarding trade-offs is more body shame and naked shame.

My parents were quite free in their approach to upbringing in some ways, like with the nakedness, and later on freedom to play outside when other kids were more sheltered in that respect. Freedom to explore our little world and feel that it is a bit bigger than just the home. It stretched into nearby streets, estates, gardens, alley ways, carparks; and whatever hidden places we could find. I really really appreciated that freedom. Nothing bad came of it. I just became more confident in a streetwise sense. I think for my Mum, she just wanted us out of the flat. It wasn’t very big and she was house proud; we would naturally make a mess. Better off outside. Just as well, because although I did have a healthy imagination, outside is where adventures happened in the real world, back then. When I was off the leash, just exploring.

Naturally naked shame entered my world upon socialisation no doubt in school. But I did retain an unusual kind of body freedom. I remember once in primary school, I was that child who, when the class were collectively feeling curious about forbidden body parts and it was the long break, must have been lunchtime I imagine in the Summer term – somehow got picked or maybe even volunteered to be examined whilst lying on a bench, parts of my clothes removed or uncovered for all to see. The whole class crowded around, with someone on look-out in case a teacher walked by. A few of them touched me, but only barely. It was like one of them would venture a hand momentarily where it wasn’t allowed and then all of them would gasp or screech, so it was quickly pulled back. Again, nothing awful happened. We were just being kids, and I was perhaps showing early leanings towards performance art! I didn’t feel coerced; I was willing and curious of this thrilling feeling myself, of exploring what was taboo. I do remember a slight sense of shame though; an awareness that some others considered my openness strange, perhaps questionnable. We must have been about 7.

As you can imagine, the nakedness of life modelling was never an issue for me. From early on I wasn’t shy about it, and when things went online that still applied. I didn’t have a normal job to protect from the judgement, nor could I imagine ever having one. By the time things did properly get going online, I was doing Spirited Bodies, so I was actively talking about and promoting body liberation.

More recently I became aware of not wanting to be so naked online. There are a few reasons. One is too much of the wrong attention from the wrong people. Another is, being tuned into feminism and wanting to be taken seriously by those people. Related but another point is, when it comes to body positivity, I’m very aware of having what many consider the ideal body. Putting it about online is not radical. And finally, and related to the feminism point, is wanting to be taken seriously by organisations I’d like to work with. It just started to feel like, the choice to share naked images of myself or not, is political. There ought to be a reason, a meaning. I know for some the whole point is continually being naked as much as possible publicly, and that is political too.

I guess it comes down to personality, and I realised I operate better when I’m a bit more selective. I think I needed to tone down my public nakedness in order to regain my understanding of what it meant. I’d become desensitised to my own nudity. That’s always going to be a thing, and it’s often a good thing; but it had become a bit unhelpful. These days I try to engage with people where demonstrating that I understand their delicate position, where they are coming from is important. I might be in a normal situation like when I attended college last Autumn, and suddenly it’s like back in the world of normal taboos. I find myself carefully explaining what I do, whilst automatically scanning for latent signs of shock or judgement in the listeners.

Going through old videos we made when I first got together with Steve, I am reminded of that change in my outlook which has occurred since then. We were going on these amazing holidays, and being Steve, there was always a naked photoshoot in some remote place, or sometimes a bit more daring and not that remote! Anyway, I was also going through a menstrual art phase – it was featuring in my performances, and I’d participated in a workshop led by my friend Calu. I’d been collecting my blood each month in my mooncup, and pouring it into little jars (that still happens when I can be bothered to wear a cup. I actually prefer a more free-bleeding experience with pads/padded knickers and lockdown has been a dream for that.) My fridge has long contained several jars of my blood of varying vintage. They come out now and again when I fancy painting.

With all the gorgeous settings in nature on our holidays and us being naked, I had an idea. I often seemed to bleed while we were away, uncannily, and if I’d just bled before we went, I started taking a pot of blood with me because we always found occasion to use it. There emerged a series of ‘menstrual rituals’ which were really just me pouring the blood over myself and then washing it off in a lake or the sea. I like the aesthetic and feel of the pouring blood, and normalising what is a natural body function. Removing the shame of the blood, actually celebrating it. I personally enjoy my cycle, the variations in myself like seasons – and especially the part when I’m bleeding is generally accompanied by strong feelings of confidence and self-assuredness. The hormones happening at that time are powerful, and it’s a good time for me to make decisions or deal with tricky situations. I am unflappable! My instincts are really switched on, and my psychic powers are strongest. It makes sense to luxuriate in the whole bleeding process, and smash menstrual taboo. Not everyone has such a positive experience, but just being able to speak about it and express ourselves can make a difference in really important ways.

Some of those menstrual acts were recorded and are online already. After a few, I started to think that’s enough. It’s not really achieving anything new. But looking at the rest of those films now, there is one that stands out for the beautiful location, and the way Steve put it together with some sound. I’m releasing that one publicly for the first time with this post. I want to mark my return to reclaiming some naked pride – surely a recurring theme. Some of my other recent blogs have begun that inadvertently as I shared old photos in them. Not long before this recent blogging phase, I applied for a job which due to working with young people, I felt obliged to remove all the naked photos from this site. I never heard back from the job, and subsequently applied for something else which I realised I wanted a lot more. It was being an artist/writer in residence, and together with the realisation that the college course wasn’t right for me, led to re-embracing myself the way I am. Not trying too much to package myself to fit somewhere I don’t really. Just noticing that, and having gone through that process has been important. A constant work perhaps, of re-assessment. The subject of this post is vast and could become a much longer chapter if not a whole book. For now, I’ll leave you with a piece of stunning Slovenia in Lake Bohinj which acquired some of my blood in 2016.

Stone Circle Solstice

almost all photographs by Kevin LeMaire

To introduce my new site, my first post (which is not migrated from Spirited Bodies) is about a gathering of my friends this Summer Solstice at a stone circle local to me, as it happened just before this country went completely mad.

stone-circles-02

First of all, a bit about myself. I write, I perform, I life model. I am often naked, and sometimes this happens as an activist artist. I have created various nude events and performances for several years, and sometimes I just want to create nude art happenings with friends, sometimes without more than the merest forethought. Let’s say however, that this wasn’t completely out of the blue, after all in April I made my own nude and bloody connection with the same standing stones. Furthermore my friend Ursula had said to me, ‘let’s meet for Solstice!’ I regularly visit my local stone circle, and a plan formed, albeit loose, unstructured.

stone-circles-03a stone-circles-04

The date was set for Tuesday 21st June in the evening, as then both Ursula and I were free. About a week before I checked with a few friends who all know each other, if they were also free. Amazingly, they were. All we needed now was good, well let’s say at least dry weather, and in the current pattern of weather, with so many rainy spells this would be difficult to forecast.

I asked the friends to bring picnic, drinks, and musical instruments as well as cameras and drawing materials. We would if possible be making shapes with the standing stones on Hilly Fields, together with our bodies. Most of us are models, life models, if only occasionally while some others are more comfortable with drawing pad, or lens. Apart from my partner Steve, none were familiar with the stones, but it was easy to describe their location as well as answer last minute calls on their whereabouts. Just before 6pm Steve and I arrived and found Rodger standing, intrigued within the stones’ circumference, while from different directions both Lucy and Ursula were emerging, wondering which path best to take. Soon we were five, slowly sprawling across the long flat centre stone which was dry and retained the sun’s heat. Grass had a little moistness from recent rain, but nothing a blanket wouldn’t absorb.

stone-circles-08 stone-circles-15 stone-circles-16 stone-circles-17 stone-circles-18

The convergence of model and artist friends brought me great joy, this mini pilgrimage to a circle of neo-megaliths on top of a hill in my neighbourhood of Brockley. Everyone found the stones enchanting, as I do, and it wasn’t long before people were climbing and sitting on them too, between bursts of picnicking on the ground. We had been lucky to both have the circle all to ourselves, and fine weather including some patches of sunshine. Unexpectedly, Lily and her husband Kevin also joined us not long later. We had heard she wasn’t feeling well, so it was a very pleasant surprise when they joined us. Not before getting lost in a nearby cemetery mind. It is a long two hour journey they drive, from a far side of London and this was unfamiliar territory.

stone-circles-11 stone-circles-27 stone-circles-28

While all my picnic offerings were shop bought, Lucy had created the most delicious fresh vegetable salad, in a large quantity, plenty for all to feast on, rendering my more prosaic fare mere filler. I had also acquired special cakes for Rodger as his 60th birthday had been recent, and fresh strawberries and raspberries went down well with apple juice or wine. Judit was the final friend to join the gathering, and still we had daylight. Now we were 8, and some wine had been flowing, poses cast a’top of boulders, and poems declaimed which spoke of Summer. Drums started to patter, a tambourine shake, shoes removed – for barefoot we trod.

Before it was late, Lucy had to depart while the rest of us continued. We each occupied a rock, and made sounds as we held our postures. Kinaesthetically we responded to unknown calls to switch places, join ranks or move between. At some twilight point I felt the urge, emboldened with alcohol, though always a natural inclination for some of us, to remove a layer of clothing. It was my trousers and from there I saw Steve follow suit – or unsuit, going topless, and Rodger too. I was still in my pants but just a skimpy top and thought, ‘we’ve come this far – it must be done’. Although colder than when we arrived, we had now warmed up to our vibe and soon Steve and Rodger were completely naked. I kept my pants on, truly I think to encourage Judit and Ursula, who did start to undress too.

More of us women mostly nude felt preferable to just one fully. It worked as shortly the 3 of us were down to knickers. I think psychologically in this public and semi-daylight setting, it feels easier to cover up if necessary, with pants already in place, for a woman, where men require less coverage to be acceptable. Since we were just being (nearly) naked for our own merriment, there was no set time frame in this ad hoc occasion. We just let it flow.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Lily and Kev are not as we are in this respect, but greatly appreciated being part of it, and as well Kev recorded many moments photographically. What we created exceeded my expectations – after all there was no firm plan, more than an arty celebratory Solstice picnic. For me it was an affirmation of the living of my art and resonates strongly with what I make in my art projects, particularly Spirited Bodies at present. It is a living research and a way I want more of. We all felt that we wanted more of this connection with the Earth, the land, the sky, the season, and with each other as we truly are.

stone-circles-39

In the wake of what happened in this country just over 2 days later, it felt even more poignant to have shared in this collaboration of unity. As Rodger put it, we were our own little European Union – Ursula from Germany, Judit from Catalunya in Spain, and Lily from Bulgaria. The rest of us are mostly English, but also feel European. Steve has travelled to every country in Europe except Russia, Rodger lived in Amsterdam for a few years in the ’80s, and my Mother grew up in 5 different countries on the continent before settling in London in ’63. The conditions of each move were politically motivated (as her parents worked for Communist organisations), and make for an interesting narrative in themselves, destined for a future post.

stone-circles-40 stone-circles-41

Kevin’s photographs capture the energy and joy of our celebration. He hadn’t photographed people before, only practised in landscapes and wildlife. We all thought he did a brilliant job, being amongst us without inhibiting us, capturing our unstaged naturalness, as well as some more posed shots. The nakedness alone marks them as outside of ordinary, a happening capable of offending some, in a public park. Dog walkers and other passers-by did see, stop to look, even attempt a sneaky photo from a distance, but none challenged us; most smiled and laughed with us. Perhaps we had created a sort of ‘Temporary Autonomous Zone’ – “The TAZ is like an uprising which does not engage directly with the State, a guerilla operation which liberates an area (of land, of time, of imagination) and then dissolves itself to re-form elsewhere/elsewhen…” if in a rather small and unthreatening form. It is the potential of such occasions to free us of the shackles of usually present conformity, that reminds us of our individual, and our collective power. We feel liberated and humanly connected beyond the normal; we feel alive.

stone-circles-42

Underneath our clothes, without the trappings of their markings, we are equal. We become more timeless when nude, as primal beings. To create a TAZ is a bit like a tribe, and so elemental feelings of connection may be rediscovered. I have found that with the larger group sittings (and more recently movements) at Spirited Bodies. The creation of a soundscape by the group, particularly with their voices, adds to that intensity of shared experience I think. It is beyond words in their more usual rational form, and takes us away from our individual thought patterns, onto a group interactive dynamic. Being part of a tribe gives us an amplified sense of well-being, and is part of a wider sub-culture; the nude art scene. Enthusiasts find meaning and fulfilment through participation.

I don’t know if we are judged less without clothes, in the nude – especially when others are dressed. But I do think it helps to normalise expectations about bodies; to satisfy a natural human curiosity – about each others’ bodies, about our own. It helps us to appreciate our difference; unique individual beauty, and the enormous variety between us. Very significantly, we feel that we have nothing to hide. We are pure in our natural honesty. Nakedness removes the potential for pretending to be something we are not. Just being accepted as we are, is so profoundly important.

stone-circles-44 stone-circles-43

A Natural Part of the Journey

Last week I visited 2 naturist clubs in the heart of the rich south of this land. One was a site visit for Sex Maniacs’ Ball, and then a few of us went to a sexual energy channelling workshop at another club down the road. It was all in the spirit of the Ball, because amongst other naturist activities will be an energy healing workshop and we were being briefed in how to help facilitate. No private parts are touched, but the power of the sexually focussed reiki can be such that participants are brought to orgasm. Personally I experienced a very pleasant euphoria, but I guess it all depends on who you are with. Both clubs had a very open, sexy vibe, most fitting for the mission.

Last month I was invited to model at Naturist Foundation, also in Kent, which is a more regular naturist resort. They have a life drawing group amongst other art clubs, and the organiser knew me from a class in Sidcup where I model. He picked me up at Orpington station and drove us to the club. As soon as he parked inside the grounds, he stripped off to acclimatise; I didn’t feel quite ready. It was a fairly mild day, and once we had been to the cafe and had a coffee and sandwich, said hello to quite a few people, I felt adjusted. I shed all other items, and just draped a shawl over my shoulders whilst being given a tour. It is quite a large space, with woodland and different camping and games areas. Children and teenagers were present though not nude like the older folks. I posed outdoors for the second time this year, and enjoyed it more than the first for the liberation of artists also naked. It was a special occasion as normally they take turns to draw each other. Nudity no problem, they some of them struggle with finding interesting poses. I said next time I’d give them a lesson, maybe get some group poses going on. After the session I swum in the warm pool. I don’t remember swimming nude in such relaxed setting before.

Posing in a garden in South East London, a warm evening and a red shawl. Pastel by Arnie

Scenery at Naturist Foundation where I posed outdoors

perching

the red shawl (from my Grand Father) is popular this Summer

In Scotland we exalted in student digs, right in the middle of Edinburgh. Noisy, cheap, no frills but what we needed. A bust tyre on our journey down slowed our progress to Glasgow the next day, but we got to All The Young Nudes just in time. We had trouble finding the venue once we had parked and found the street. We asked an Italian for directions and she told us “It is down a very nasty alley”. Every corner led to a nasty alley and on we shrugged till we reached the last corner. A sign on the main road told us to go round the back. Right at the back and down into the depths of some cave of a club, nothing much to look at, but that seemed to be the way with Glasgow. Inside they were waiting, keeping the artists out till the last minute, and what a queue there must have been, of artists who kept arriving through the first half and packing out this cellar of nooks and pillars, levels and pathways, no obvious centre to work with. We divided up our group of models or else not all artists would get a look. They drunk and music played, we fitted poses into spaces right in front of artists’ noses, making much of all our Scottish collaborators being professionals too. I could see why; if I was new to life modelling I would probably feel daunted by this intense and in yer face set up.

Thelma I believe

a Scottish model

linking up

Next night in Edinburgh was at the opposite end of the scale, in a well-to-do part of town (or is it all like that?) in a well kept church hall, attached to the church. A handful of artists drew intently, a more measured affair but the artwork was really special. We had a couple of new models and one pro joining us; I stayed out to direct this time.

Scottish Witches

Friends

This was a mini-Pieta pose for 15 minutes!

Loads more beautiful art work from this session here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.607794702576542.1073741837.320375434651805&type=1&l=f30476d02a

There was a hiccup with our final gig north of the border – the venue were unprepared for us, the room double booked, and though we still managed some nice poses together in a different space, we realised this place was not on the case (though some very lovely people did come to our rescue). We are still seeking a resolution here in terms of our next step on the Scottish mission. Overall we made some brilliant connections and can’t wait to get back, in the best possible fashion.

We all loved being on the road too, even Little Chef, takes me right back! That chance to share a bit more of our lives together, get to know each other in closer quarters and have an adventure.

With this baby, Baby Spirited Bodies, well technically a toddler now, like many Mums I make friends on the path. Friends who might not take the plunge if they didn’t know me, if we didn’t become close. Makes it accessible, less scary to be able to talk about it and feel safe with someone who knows. I’ve never been less lonely and it’s a good feeling, but I am getting familiar with some friends passing through for that part of the journey. It’s just so intense for a while, and sometimes the flame goes right out, suddenly because invariably emotions come up, and maybe a clash. I cannot hold their hand all the time, and bam they feel rejected! Onwards. Hopefully I’ll learn to smooth that phase more delicately. I am not a counsillor but I could be a better friend. Fortunately other friends that I have usually known longer, get involved and the effect is just uplifting, because of where they are at in their own journey, and how established our bond already is. Modelling with Spirited Bodies brings us closer, and I am beginning to see that some who needs must part from my company a while, do return when ready, for a new lease of friendship, with a stronger bond.

So lately I’ve been to several naturist places, and while I think these people have the right idea, not only do I not live near enough to one to consider joining, but also, it’s like they are in a timewarp somewhere between the ’70s and ’80s. Of course it’s not about appearances and that’s the point, but at least it’s about having people your own age you share cultural identity with. My own cultural identity may be quite comfortable in the ’80s and ’90s, but most naturists are older. I think it is becoming cool again though. Groups I am part of on Facebook testify to this trend, and the desire to shift the naturist way more into the modern day is a popular conversation topic; how to attract more women, and how to attract more young folks. The growing popularity of nudist events outside of naturist clubs also indicates a change; it may be young people are more inclined to undress socially within a more familiar setting, be it urban such as at this evening’s private view of an exhibition at Guerilla Galleries in Holloway (Daniel Libeskind Space) to be part of an installation (I am involved with several friends, see https://www.eventbrite.com/event/6785468519 for details), or outdoor such as tomorrow’s Streak for Tigers at London Zoo (http://www.zsl.org/support-us/challenge-events/streak-for-tigers-thursday-15-august,2096,AR.html) which is a fundraiser to help save the Sumatran Tiger, or further in nature for a mass skinny-dip!

Last Monday Thelma and I went to The Outsiders Trust Jamboree, which is a light-hearted daytripping prequel to The Sex Maniacs Ball. With children present it was all very tame, but we got to talk a little to the party about what we do with Spirited Bodies, and how that may relate to people gaining sexual self confidence. A gentleman after described how with his unusual condition he is used to being prodded mercilessly by doctors to the point that he is unfussed about his body, but feels it has lost its specialness, just a curiosity and problem to be solved by the medical profession. My Mum is familiar with that too; paralysed from the neck down she relies on others for every bodily function, dignity plays little part, or rather dignity may be redefined according to necessity. The idea of being regarded for art is exceptional, appealing, and I found that with The Outsiders themselves I felt drawn to create a life modelling event just for them. The Ball will likely be a jolly rollicking affair, less time for quiet drawing even if tantric reiki is happening. I would prefer to give my baby the true attention it deserves, although a little taster might spread the message.

At The Mall Galleries last Wednesday, it was a special day for Mum.

water colour by Graham Wood

drawing by Margaret

There are more pictures of Mum from this event but they have not been shared yet. There are also many pictures of all the other models of course too; see our Facebook page for them. I just wanted to emphasize Mum as it is harder for her to make herself known, being paralysed and less able to attract artists with dazzling moves. I look forward to events which bring disabled/differently abled people modelling to the fore. It is on the agenda.

My Naked bike ride

On Saturday 8th June, I didn’t want to go in the morning, I wanted to stay in bed. It looked cloudy, and I am not generally great with the cold. Still my boyfriend rang to encourage me which always helps, and I did not try to rush myself. Too much time in a crowded place if you are not in the mood would backfire. By the time I left, sun was shining and I felt glorious for what would happen that day. It’s all about the attitude – doesn’t matter if I miss the body painting bit, or even my friends; if I am on form I will have the best time ever no matter.

I had noted directions to the secret spot for painting our bodies, and after alighting the train at Victoria, cycled over there, not far from Marble Arch. Pretty quiet when I arrived, Natasha was painting Will, Susan was at the ready and a few others were about. The photographers had not yet sussed us and descended! I messed about with my watery bottles of silver and pink which did not nearly cover me thickly enough, much to my sunburnt grief later, but at least I had a sort of glittery golden sheen about me! A kind woman painted Spirited Bodies in big letters across my back, and I helped with painting others where I could. Generally I was getting all excited by this time, if only internally and my painting skills which normally might be more reasonable, were pretty basic.

A friend made a stencil, so I had small letting on my front, big on my back

A friend made a stencil, so I had small lettering on my front, big on my back

More friends and others arrived, and so too the camera’d masses… well you have to expect that, ideally revel in it, but it is testing even for the hardiest exhibitionist at times. Being a female, they tend to crowd especially if you are nude. Oh for a world where naked humans are more normal.

It seemed to take an age to get the ride going, but at this point Richard who has come to draw at Spirited Bodies before caught me as he was making his WNBR documentary.

The World Naked Bike Ride, London (2013). from Richard Agnew on Vimeo.

When the ride finally got going, and we were at the end almost (of the long trail of 100s of cyclists), I felt heroic! Crowds cheer lining the streets and the freedom of being nude on your bike as you streak down Park Lane is awesome!

Landmark occasion!

Highlights of the ride? Having friends to share it with mainly, that meant a lot. Seeing all the extraordinary cyclists in their stunning attire and some works of art on skin. Chatting with strangers as we rode, recognising friends too, sharing in blissful moments like when people who were not on the ride suddenly decided to join in, you know, random cyclists, and especially people in rickshaws in the West End where we were. We saw them strip off, stand up and pose to applause! Just getting into the spirit of it. The overwhelming joy that kept me high for some time after, is of course still with me. The luck of the mainly warm, sometimes hot weather that day, especially considering the following greyness of subsequent days. The sunburn was worth it, and kept ‘Spirited’ on my back till now even!

Oh and I remember singing ‘Just can’t get enough’! (Depeche Mode) whilst riding down famous streets of the capital. It’s a number from the East London choir I am part of, Hackney Secular Singers. Felt most apt to sing in such high spirits. My original intention to bring more women to the ride did not exactly transpire, but it is in the intention that matters. My presence was there, and Natasha remarked that there were more women than the last year, we just want to keep growing that number.

When we stopped at the lights, Steve caught me and Julian

celebration, and lovely painted women

with Natasha, who managed to raise money whilst riding (and being photographed) for Help for Heroes

gorgeous group shot – other friends were scattered about, but this unit emerged to keep reconvening!

best painted rider – took 2 days to prepare apparently! He had a tail too. Photo by Camila

Camila caught us at the beginning of the ride

One more thing. At the end when we were dressed again at Hyde Park Corner, and people were disbanding, I did not know what to do. I was not ready to go home. Just like that and it confused me, so when friends had gone, I stayed a while and cycled back towards Marble Arch uncertain where to or why. Then I saw a couple who had clearly been on the ride (he was still almost nude except literally a loin cloth), and I recognised the woman who had been riding near us. Older couple, very sweet, in fact are good friends not partners. They said hello and invited me to have tea with them in the dusk of the park. Turned out to be the perfect way to unwind, chatting with fellow riders, from Wales in this case, quietly after the chaos. Making friends and sharing stories of naked escapades (these two travel far and wide for it), and having friends to be nude with when your partner isn’t that bothered about that scene. Made lots of sense, I’m sure I’ll see them again.

With thanks to all who shared in this, and Steve, Camila and Matthew for sharing photos and Richard for the film. Here is a link to more pictures discovered on Flickr by Darren – http://www.flickr.com/photos/dave-cool/9013964241/in/set-72157634069609804/

Till next time!

London’s cyclists bare all for the World Naked Bike Ride (independent.co.uk)

Esther Bunting