A naturist’s view on household

Yup. Household.

We all know it, know that we need it and most of us aren’t too impressed with it. But… it needs to be done. (I think it was John Wayne who first used that but I’m not sure.)

Do you do household chores? If so, do you do them naked? I do, as much as I can. Since I live on the top floor (5th for Americans, 4th for others) of a building, I have the liberty of being naked as often as I like. (And what’s not to like about it when the temperature’s right, right?)

The odd thing I’ve found is that some householdly things are much easier nude. The things where you have to bend down for, kneel for, or squat. Being naked means there is no fabric holding you back. No fabric is pressing up or down onto your genitals or other parts of your body that would otherwise get the stress.

And let’s be honest: doing things naked is just much more fun. More relaxing. Easier. Why drink vinegar when you can have orange juice, or tea, or coffee?


Sunday Noon NudistCooking is also something you can easily do in the buff. It’s a matter of being sensible if you use hot butter, grease or other ingredients that can surprise you by jumping out of the pan to hit your skin.

Aprons have been invented for a reason, folks. Cooking nude is fun but being clever about it is just common sense. That is something most textiles seem to switch off whenever you speak with them about being nude around the house. For some reason many of them seem to think that you have to do everything in the nude. I have rules for that. If it’s not necessary to put something on: leave it off. In the few other cases: put something on. As to where the boundaries are for that is up to each of us personally. I for one don’t like boiling water splashing onto my skin but there are lovers of anything out there. 😉


Another example of a great nude activity. I don’t have a garden but I enjoy the images and accounts of the yearly World Naked Gardening Day.

What is your preferred nude activity? I listed only a few, I’m sure there are many more!


You can’t do that!

Earlier today I was picking dry clothes from the drying rack, because even nudists wear clothes at times, which requires washing and drying them. As usual I did that in the nude, because the rack is in a room in my own house, there are gauze curtains for the window, I’m fine. Until this morning, sort of.

I noticed someone standing on the gallery outside the window (I live on the 4th floor), doing his best to look inside. I recognised one of my neighbours, face pressed against the glass, hands around his eyes so he could see what was going on. The window is always tilted open, so I clearly heard him call out: “You’re not wearing clothes!” I replied that I knew that. He didn’t leave; instead he called out: “You can’t do that!” Only then he left. I thought.

Nude household
I tend to do all household things in the nude…

A moment later, the doorbell rang. I knew it was the neighbour, as the window he had been peeping through is very close to the front door, so I walked to the door and opened it. Yes, naked. That seemed to give him a shock, even though he’d already seen I wore nothing. He stared at me (all over, which made me feel like he was severely invading my privacy) until I asked him what he wanted. (“My face is up here” were my exact words.) He told me that I can’t walk around naked.
Oh, in my house I can. I know this for a fact. As long as no one can immediately see me from the outside, I’m all in the clear.
He: “But I saw you.”
Yes. You were doing your curious utmost to see what was happening, almost pressing your head through the double glazing, so indeed you saw me. This is not accidentally seeing something, this is curiosity and acting like a peeping tom, invading the privacy of my home. (By that time another neighbour passed by. She glanced at me, smiled with a nod and a wink and walked on.)
“Still I think you are not allowed to do that.” His that was accompanied by a finger pointing at my privates.
Well, I’m not sorry but I think you are not allowed to do that unless I give you permission.

The discussion, with me standing naked in the open door, went on for a while until I offered to call the police and ask if they could come and explain things to him. He dared me, and only as I took the phone he walked off.

I am not going to put on clothes when I’m right. Period.

This website is using cookies to improve the user-friendliness. You agree by using the website further.

Privacy policy