Sauna Etiquette Evolving

One of the BnBs we stayed at on Vancouver Island

had a hot tub and a sauna. With all the hiking we were doing that was really a bonus.

As it was not a naturist BnB, we donned our swimsuits for the hot tub. Later we showered and entered the sauna with our bathrobes. As soon as I sat on the cedar bench, I undid the tie and let it fall away, just using it as something to sit on, which is proper naturist etiquette. Gerald, who’s not a naturist, was concerned about other people coming in and me being inappropriately attired. I assured him that I’d keep my eye on the window and listen for voices. We were left in peace. (Poor Gerald married someone who’s always ready to rock the boat in an effort to be comfortable.)

A conversation blossomed around sauna memories. As a kid, after swimming at the local pool, Mom and I would go into the sauna in the women’s changeroom. There was a mixture of women either nude or still in swimsuits. I didn’t think anything of it. I was just happy to get a seat in the packed space and felt weird when someone brought their little boy in with them. In the changing area people got out of their swimsuits and into their clothes in the open. There were a couple of makeshift rooms made of material, but I assumed that was for the extremely skittish.

At college in my early twenties, I frequented the big beautiful new community center. After a swim I removed my suit to shower, wrapped the towel around me and went to the sauna. Just three ladies were there, all still wearing their suits. I had a moment of hesitation being the odd one out, but bolstered myself with the thought that being nude in a sauna makes sense. I sat down and tentatively released my grip on the towel, hoping that I wouldn’t upset anyone in the process. What came instead were words like, “good for you” and “do it while you still can honey” and “if I were still that young, I wouldn’t mind either”.

I was pleased that they weren’t mad, but I felt sad for them. While the messages seemed positive, what I heard underneath was: we got old, things changed, and no one wants to see that. Gone were the brazen seniors who’d seen enough life that they didn’t care about who saw them in their wrinkled and roll-y glory. Now it was evident that everyone was skittish and trying desperately not to be seen. When did that happen? When did the shame creep in? Was it bit by bit or all at once?  Was it all those magazines that pull apart celebrities for gaining weight or losing too much? Somewhere there was a consistent whisper, even to those brazen grannies, that they’re not ok as they are. One image was being celebrated and if you didn’t fit the mold, you should hide.

It feels strange to consider that I’m being brazen by doing what feels natural. People go nude in saunas all over Europe. Wearing a damp clingy item which blocks the heat transfer and interferes with the sweat release, is just a silly and uninformed thing to do. I mean, do it if you must, but feel free to join me in not giving a flip! Maybe your action will help others feel at ease and we can all begin to heal.