I have no idea how this custom originated — probably with the headmaster, W.B. Curry, who, in his book The School, wrote: "It is desirable for boys and girls to see each other wholly or partially undressed as, so to speak, part of the day's work, and without having to make any special effort to do so. In this way the furtive curiosity from which so many adolescents suffer is greatly diminished [...] I think it is almost certain that, in children at least, nudity after the first few occasions, diminishes rather than increases sexual interest." This is undoubtedly true. The area round our swimming pool was a singularly unsexy place. Boys who might climb up a drainpipe at the school itself in order to catch a glimpse of a girl having a bath, would show not the slightest interest in the same girl's nude body (often goose-pimply from the cold) as she made her way into the chilly water.
I can't now recall what I felt about swimming naked in the first year or two of senior school, when I was 13 and 14; I probably went along with it quite happily. But I do know that, as I grew older, I found it increasingly embarrassing. I didn't dare admit this to anyone — and hardly to myself — or a very long time. Nude bathing was such an integral part of the school's enlightened ethos that to question it would have been regarded as deeply regressive and bourgeois — the equivalent of objecting to, say, gender equality today. But truth will out, and we older girls finally, and guiltily, started confessing to each other that we felt extremely self-conscious about being seen without our clothes on. We had no wish to expose our wobbly bits to all and sundry. If only we could wear bathing-suits, we all agreed, we would go swimming much more often. I suspect that most of the boys felt much the same way, though I never talked about this uncomfortable subject to any male.
There was, however, one boy who swam against the tide, so to speak, and always wore swimming trunks. Naturally, we all thought there was something fundamentally wrong either with his body, or with his mind, or both. Looking back on it now, it strikes me that he showed exceptional moral courage, or sang froid — certainly more than we older girls did. None of us had the nerve to bring up the topic at Moot meetings, let alone to propose a motion, which we had drafted, to make bathing-suits acceptable. So we continued to bathe naked, but more and more self-consciously, and less and less frequently. (After Curry's departure as headmaster in 1957, bathing-suits became optional.)
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