The thing about skinny-dipping is most people will do it at least once in their lives. Those who do, will think back on it fondly trying to re-experience what it felt like then, now. The first moment of undressing. Revealing yourself. The tickle of your dress strap dancing down your shoulder. Or the weight of your boxers slinking down your thighs. Looking at others as they look at you. Dipping your bare toes in the water. Then, the rest of you. But this isn’t a story about those people. This is a story about a girl who walks around naked all the time…
Nadine. Oh, Nadine.
When you meet Nadine, it’s hard to tell if she’s naked because the first thing you notice about her is her smile. The way it takes you in. Makes you feel better about the world. Encourages you to call your mother and apologize for something you haven’t done yet. The smile is a nice cover for the naked girl. So is the tattoo of the dress she has inked across her body. It’s a short black dress, ending right above her knees. It has a cute round neck with bubble lining and red circles for buttons that run from her collarbone down to her belly button. If you saw her from across the street, you’d swear the girl was not only dressed but fashionable. You would think that a girl like that goes to outdoor concerts in open fields and house parties wherever there is one at four A.M.. Simply, the dress is Nadine. Which is why she never changes her “clothes.”
It’s only when you get up close, like… really close, that you realize… Ooh. This girl isn’t dressed at all. She’s as nude as it gets. Then you wonder how you feel about it. How you’re supposed to feel about it – hateful, embarrassed, jealous, free. It’s a four-step process, really. If you get to the fourth step – feeling free – then you’ll follow Nadine wherever she goes.
I know what you’re thinking. That all of her friends want to fuck her. That they’re just waiting for the right moment to start the conversation. Well, since you’re already naked… But in reality, that just isn’t so. Her friends don’t want her in that way. They’re more in awe of her. The way she challenges them to live a little, even though they know they’ll never be as brave as her. And consequently, never as interesting. See, the girl in black ink dress can cook you something grand on your kitchenette stove when you haven’t gone grocery shopping in three weeks. Or tell you a story that will lift you off your daybed and onto the overpass in Cleveland where she slept one night. That’s right – onto – not under, because that’s just the kind of person Nadine is.
Nadine. Oh, Nadine.
What you don’t know about Nadine that she’ll never tell you, is she enjoys the attention. It’s calculated, you see. She’s learned that it takes making someone uncomfortable in their own skin to really get to know them. How they think, feel, act when they’re uneasy. She thrives on this. Believes that by doing it, she’s making a difference in the world. Better the people, better the place. As a result, an honest community. If she’s right or not, no one knows. Not even her. But know one knows anything for sure until it’s too late anyway. That’s what Nadine will tell you if you ever ask her for advice. I know because I asked her once.
Please don’t tell Nadine what I’ve told you here today. Everyone has their insecurities. Having her secrets revealed is one of Nadine’s. Were she to find out, she might throw on a sweater and jeans and walk off in the opposite direction, leaving the rest of us to our own devices. And we don’t want that, now do we?
Food for thought, from experience and rumor, just because you’re initial intention wasn’t to sleep with Nadine doesn’t mean she won’t fuck you if you ask.
Nadine. Oh, Nadine…