There is something so beautifully voyeuristic about watching someone undress. And I’m not speaking about watching someone who is undressing themselves for you; I’m talking about seeing someone undress like no one is watching. Not a striptease, just a strip. The removal of clothing is such a revealing thing. Nothing is hidden any longer, you are exposed, literally naked, and vulnerable to boot.
But there is something more metaphorical about the undressing process as well, something that I alluded to with this post. The removal of clothing is also the removal of the things that bind you in your daily life. They help to create the identity, the persona, the mask that you wear in public. The business man in the suit, the woman hiding her “problem areas” with restrictive undergarments, the teacher in the twinset, the exotic dancer in her lingerie. These things help us become what we want others to see, and once it is removed, we are left with nothing but ourselves. Which can be the scariest thing of all.
Undressing oneself exposes us in so many different ways, and when you watch someone strip, you watch them reveal what’s really underneath the facade. Because the clothes really don’t make the man.
I'm Britni, a snarky bitch and generally awesome person. I write about sex, love, and bullshit. If sex-positivity, discussions about BDSM and kink, queer issues, and topics that are completely inappropriate by society's standards make you uncomfortable, then this blog is not for you.
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2 Comments
That's true. You sound like maybe you'd be interested in being a nudist so you can shed all that facade.
I love coming home and getting undressed. Joe laughs at me because as soon as I take my bra off I start rubbing my boobs. The best way I can explain it to him is that they've been locked up all day and now they're free!!