When UK Was Naturist
When Britain was Practically a Naturist Country

I was in one of my favourite pubs, and I was near enough to a group of girls to be able to overhear their conversation.

One of the women (must have been mid-twenties, I should think), was recounting getting drunk the previous weekend.

She had been to a nightclub, with at least one of the women in the group, and she was saying how she got ‘absolutely paralytic’. She said that after the nightclub closed, she was outside the nightclub, ‘rolling around on the ground’. She recounted how she had almost got arrested. And then she came out with:

“And I had no knickers on.”

I almost choked on my lager. Suffice to say that I started going to nightclubs (again). Sure enough, I discovered that it had become a ‘fashion’ for young women to go out weekends without any panties on - and it remained so for quite a few years.

An aside. Right from the start of my adulthood, until I was nearly middle-aged, I had been ‘quite religious’, and at the church I went to, the vicar was always going on about ‘fornication’, ‘fornication’, ‘fornication’ – preaching that the Christian way was ‘no sex before marriage’.

And I wasn’t that much of a rebel in those days. I hadn’t totally abstained though – I had ‘strayed’. But I was certainly only in ‘single figures’ – if you see what I mean.

But after I overheard this conversation in the pub, with the young woman saying that she had been knickerless the previous weekend, I started to frequent nightclubs again (very regularly)

That really was a revelation.

I discovered that she very much wasn’t alone in this; and most of the girls really didn’t seem to mind what the men saw.

There were (at a rough guess) about 300 clubbers at the nightclub on a typical Friday or Saturday. Possibly a third of the women were wearing skirts or dresses (very often quite short).

Admittedly I didn’t see much on the dancefloor – when the women were standing up (dancing), their skirts or dresses were long enough to cover their ‘privates’.

But when they were having a break from dancing, and sitting down on the plush seating that was all about, it was a different story. As I said, the women really didn’t seem to care what the men saw.* (Which was indeed ‘quite a lot’, to say the least.) And if you saw anything, you far more often saw fanny than knickers!

You really didn’t know where to look!

In fact if you count ‘seeing’ (without necessarily ‘doing anything about it’), it was very much ‘double figures’ every flippin night (every Friday and Saturday – and quite a lot of Thursdays too) for very nearly a decade – in quite a few towns (mainly) in Hampshire.

* I suppose it wasn’t that surprising that the women ‘didn’t seem to mind what the men saw’. A few years previous to this, I had been taking a bus quite often in the late afternoon – just when the schoolkids came out of school. Often there was a group of 13 or 14 year olds sitting at the back of the bus (a mixed group of boys and girls), talking quite loudly, and one of the main things they were talking about was sharing naked pictures of each other. [Obviously, a few years on, it didn’t make that much difference ‘what the men saw’ – if for years they had been sharing naked pictures of each other anyway!]

Quite frequently I go to London, by train (buying a ticket that includes the Underground).

Very often, if I am on an Underground train between, say, 6.30pm and 9pm on a Friday or Saturday, I find myself sitting opposite a young woman who is showing her pussy (she is following the current fashion of wearing no panties).

(Probably on the way to a ‘young peoples’ pub’ or even a party maybe, and wearing such a short dress that she leaves nothing to the imagination, even if she tries to keep her legs together.)

I must admit that I enjoy these experiences immensely, and often stay on the train for longer than I had originally intended. (When you buy a ticket to London, including the Underground, you can use the Underground as much as you like, there are no restrictions, so this is possible.)

The most amazing experience I had relating to this was on a ‘normal’ train – not an Underground train. It was on a journey from Reading to Ealing Broadway (about a three quarters of an hour journey). Throughout the whole of it, there was a young woman sitting opposite her mother, and she had quite a short skirt, had no panties on, and was sitting with her legs wide apart. All the time she was talking to her mother, animatedly, about some bland subject (I cannot now remember what the subject was). I was sitting behind the mother, and to the left, and had an excellent view.

I was wondering what her mother thought about it all.

It is true that if I had the choice of sitting near a group of men, or a group of attractive young women (in a pub), I would choose to sit near the women – and ‘see what gives’, and sometimes, quite often actually, something did.

It was frequently the case that just a few, or even maybe only one, out of a group of young women would be knickerless. And often the girls would be joking about this. If I was near enough, I could even hear their banter (about it). And quite frequently one of the girls would playfully lift up the skirt of the knickerless one (as a bit of a joke), so that for a few seconds there was, shall we say, a great view. Of course, I enjoyed this tremendously. It was far better than watching TV (indoors).

My record, during the course of one night at a nightclub, was 25 fannies, and not one pair of knickers (in sight). That was about twice as many as usual, though. Girls seemed to be falling over themselves to show me ‘what they were made of’. It could have been more (than 25), but you have to be a bit careful with all the bouncers around.

The girls knew what they were doing, as well. When one girl got out of her seat a bit clumsily, she looked all around at everyone who was looking on, and blurted out:

“Ooh, fanny time.”

Well, at least that broke the ice. There had been a momentary silence as everyone took in ‘the sights of the world’ (one girl’s fiery pussy), but now there was quite a bit of laughter and high spirits.

She said “Oh dear, I’m as forgetful as my grandma these days.”

“And long may it continue,” I said, “I’m all for it – this ‘no-pants’ craze. A night at a nightclub is a lot cheaper than a night at a strip club, and the effect is much the same.

Even more so, actually. Amateur pussy revealers can be a bigger turn-on than professional ones!”

The most fannies I saw in one dance at a nightclub was 15, when everyone got down on the floor for “Oops upside your head.” Again, hardly any knickers.

But all that was at least 10 years ago. These days (in 2026) hardly any women even wear skirts.

Most of the women who did that sort of thing (back then) must be in their 30s now.

* See my Erotica books, which are mainly about the ‘no-pants’ craze – look up ‘Chris Burnell’ on Amazon / Books.

It was a Saturday afternoon (just recently – in 2026). The weather was fine, and I was in Winchester. I noticed some people sitting in the outside area of a bar, among them a youngish woman (mid thirties, I suppose), who was sitting alone.

She had quite a short dress on, and I soon realised that she had no panties on.

Actually, she changed chairs, as it happens moving even closer to me (giving me an even better view). Also, at her new place, it was by a table, and she got some papers out, and placed them on the table, and started doing some work.

In fact, not to put too fine a point on it, she was a teacher – the work she was doing was marking kids’ homework. From the papers, it looked like they were quite young children – under 11 – but I may be wrong (do primary school age children have homework?)

Anyway, she was marking this homework by these kids, all the while exposing herself. Her fanny was a sort of golden colour, and she had blond hair – so she was obviously a natural blond.

I must have stood there, looking at her, for nearly an hour, while she carried on marking this homework. Most of the time her legs were only 4 or 5 inches apart (still enough for me to have a very good view) – but sometimes she really let rip, so to speak, and opened her legs right out, giving me an almost pornographic view.

I bet none of her pupils had seen their ‘Miss’ like this, I thought. (But it wouldn’t have been an impossibility, though – this was very much a City Centre location – with lots of kids milling around,)

After about an hour I thought it best to move on – I had ‘caught her eye’ a couple of times, and it was likely she might become suspicious about me standing there.

There might be 300 clubbers on a typical Friday or Saturday night. There were probably more men than women usually, and of course not all the women wore skirts or dresses. I suppose you could count on there being about 50 women wearing skirts or dresses (the women wearing trousers or jeans just didn’t count).

Of those 50 young women wearing skirts or dresses, you could guarantee that hardly any of them had knickers on.

You wouldn’t ‘see much’ when they were dancing on the dance floor. They would be standing up then, and their skirts or dresses were long enough to protect their modesty.

But at the times they were not dancing, they were to be found around the periphery of the dance floors, sitting down at one of the many seats provided, and then it was a different story. So many women seemed incapable of keeping their legs together, with obvious consequences – acres of fanny.

Some girls ‘showed everything’ literally every week – you could rely on it. There was one girl who laid herself out on a couch every week, with her skirt round her waist. She always had an entourage of 3 or 4 young men, who no doubt couldn’t believe their luck. I would position myself possibly 7 or 8 yards away, and ‘take in the scenery’ for half an hour or so, most weeks.

I really couldn’t make out if most of the girls knew what sort of treat they were giving the men, or if they didn’t realise it. Either way, it didn’t make much difference to me.

Most of the men actually pretended they didn’t notice anything – but I didn’t hide the fact that I was looking, except when one of the bouncers was around – then I would look in a different direction.

Quite a few of the girls would give me lovely smiles when I passed them, for instance near the bar, so clearly they didn’t mind me looking at all. The 2010s really was a time for exhibitionist girls, if ever there was one – it was almost obligatory.