The Nostalgia of Nudity: A Kinder, Gentler Pornography

Just in case no one told you, there’s porn to be found on the Internet. You’re just a Google search away from the sorts of images whose mere description proves a daunting task for the conservative-minded, with every body part and possible function thereof on display. Anything two (or more) consenting adults can do is done. No plain brown wrapper. Nothing left to the imagination. No ceremony or discovery about it. It’s just there.

Think about it.

Just in case no one told you, there’s sex to be found in the real world. And these days it’s not always handled responsibly. People get pregnant who shouldn’t. Diseases spread. Teenagers have sex in schools or at the mall or in parking lots. Infidelity and broken homes ensue. No plain old relationships. Nothing left till later. No ceremony or sanctity about it. It’s just there.

Think about it.

My first brush with nudity came with classical European paintings that featured a lot of naked ladies. I was ashamed to look at them (being, what, seven), but in that way that a little boy knows he’s not allowed to go in the girls’ bathroom, for whatever reason. The concept of arousal didn’t quite figure in. That didn’t occur to me until one day I furtively glanced through my parents’ issue of “Vanity Fair” (magazine, not book), promoting her “Sex” (book, not act) with Madonna on the cover, and happened across a photo of her baring her breasts.

I closed that magazine so fast the resulting wind blew a neighboring house over.

With time, a young man grows to appreciate pictures of naked ladies a little more. By middle school, a friend more enterprising than I had actually developed the courage to buy the occasional dirty magazine. Imagine that, the same shops that sold greeting cards and candy bars also had good old-fashioned porn. On sleepovers or camping trips, we’d look over a “Playboy” with hushed tones of reverence in our voices, and we’d tell each other to keep it down.