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SENSE OF PLACE |
NEVER FULLY DRESSED AN EXPOSÉ ON BEING EXPOSED by Kayla Schmidt
You either come from a naked family or an all-dressed family. That was my roommate’s claim, at least. There were five girls sharing the house, which had limited bathroom space, and it was clear some were more comfortable with their bodies than others. “I’m sorry what does that mean?” asked one of the girls as she stood at the gas range, pushing bacon around in a pan, clearly not worried about the proximity of leaping hot grease to her bare midriff. She had the tendency to wear cropped tops regardless of the weather, or and especially if one of us brought a male friend over. Very sheer tops with very black bras underneath. “Well some people grow up in families where nudity in the home is just fine. They like walk around undressed, and that’s just the norm. Other families never see one another until they’re fully clothed. What kind of families do you come from?” The kind of family I come from is my dad leaping out from behind the china cabinet in his long underwear proclaiming, “Power Ranger White!” None of the actual Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers had waffle-fabric suits with holes in the waistband. This did not bother him. My dad has his own bathroom on the opposite side of the house. It’s got a pocket door and an automatic fan that turns on with the light. The toilet paper holder is shaped like a fishing reel. In the morning on the way to his bathroom, he has to pass in front of the giant dining room windows wearing his Fruit of the Looms while my mom hisses, “The neighbors will see you.” But no matter if he’s in long johns or mowing the lawn without a shirt, he never goes anywhere without his mid-calf white socks. I won’t waste any descriptive language on them—you know the type. Surely we aren’t a naked family if the tallest member is never seen barefoot? Dad-socks must cover enough square-footage of flesh to place us solidly in the classier side of the clothed spectrum? 20
