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When I rang the bell at the first party, the door cracked open and Steve poked the top half of his face around the side. Before the first party, I got coffee with the host, "Steve": an older ("mature," he told me) man who dresses stylishly but conservatively, that afternoon in bright red plastic-framed glasses, an oatmeal cable-knit sweater over a yellow checked shirt, and khakis. The naked dinner party takes place on about a monthly basis in a well-to-do Virginia suburb, on a quiet winding street. I came to the nudist party at least in part as a participant, not just a voyeur, to see what might happen if some of those markers of division were temporarily removed.
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Clothing here often feels like a marker of those fault lines, a way of tracking not merely class and professional status but also more obscure fissures: the spiffed-up outfit of a congressional aide about to move to K Street, the floppy-to-fitted suit spectrum that seems to mirror the right-to-left political spectrum, the minutiae of patriotic ties, lapel pins, and silk scarves. Over the past few months, under our new president, Washington's famous divides-race, class, gender, sexuality, politics-seem to have hardened more than ever before.
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Surrounding us, in a living room in northern Virginia, were a bunch of other naked and mostly naked people, talking about-mostly-normal things: praying mantises, Donald Trump, the best wineries in Leesburg, how to dry fresh rosemary sprigs, Donald Trump. Meanwhile, in what was only just starting not to seem like a bad dream, I was partially naked, too. Eric, blond with an easy smile, was naked too. She started reading up on rarer varieties, and now she and her partner, Eric, have as many as a thousand baby giant Asian mantises at a time, ready to express-mail to buyers for $10 apiece.Īs Sarah told me all this, she was lying across Eric's lap wrapped up in a tan-and-black checked blanket, but otherwise totally naked: tall and slender with black hair in two long braids, an eyebrow ring, and different fairies tattooed on each shoulder. This started a couple of years ago, when Sarah discovered some Carolina mantises in her outdoor pots. At a house party recently, I met a couple who, in their spare time, breed exotic praying mantises to sell on the internet as pets.