Everyone pretty much took their kit off straight away.” I ask him whether, if people had known the naked truth – as it were – there would have been fewer ticket sales. Bit cheeky, but the way I advertised it was to get people here, and I knew deep down that people would go for it – which is what they did.” He was right.
Beforehand, my mother said to me: “Do you have time to get a fake tan?
It’ll make you look way thinner.” Needless to say, I did not.
“I wouldn’t do it in a million years.” Red rag to a bull, I’m afraid.
Full disclosure: I am a 5”4, size 14 woman on the latter side of 25 with all the trimmings – cellulite, scars, bruises, chipped nail varnish and a rack that gave up the fight against gravity years ago.
The first few seconds were a blur: heart pounding, breath catching, trying not to giggle or be caught ogling anyone too blatantly. Despite dire warnings about everything from “old perverts” sneaking in to “fatties on parade”, everyone was in their mid twenties to early thirties, and a pretty pleasant-looking bunch they were, too.