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This morning those who harbour quite literal naked ambition will be heading for the Vale of Glamorgan for The Great British Skinny Dip.

The event which invites swimmers to skip into the waves off Monknash Beach unfettered by bikinis, bathing costumes or Speedos has been organised by British Naturism.

While everyone else seems to be wondering what is the politically correct line to take on France’s burkini ban, the governing body of British nudists is telling us to get our kit off. Completely.

All in the cause of healthy living, of course. Naturists always push stripping as a lifestyle activity as wholesome as a vegan super salad.

According to a spokesman: “This great event will provide lots of opportunities for people to try costume-free swimming across many varied locations, whilst having fun and raising awareness of how many people’s buttoned up attitude to the human body is causing them to lead potentially unhealthy lives.”

He added: “The more we hide away and are ashamed of our bodies – the harder it is to look after them properly and the greater likelihood of people having body confidence issues.”

Buttoned up? Does this man never watch Channel 4? Yet if he doesn’t appreciate that society might just have moved on since people chortled at those hilarious “educational” naturism films of the 1950s and 60s, the rest of us don’t always get the mindset of the naturist either.

The mistake to make about naturism is to assume it’s got anything to do with sex. This was illustrated when I once sat through a council meeting where an application from a local naturist group for nude saunas and mixed bathing sessions was being considered.

Judging from the horrified reaction of councillors, they feared Bryncoch was suddenly going to become the Sodom and Gomorrah of Neath borough. Matters weren’t helped by the fact that the applicants were referred to as “naturalists” throughout, which conjured up images of rampant David Bellamy-types collecting fauna in the sauna. Needless, to say they didn’t get the green light.

If they’d watched the documentary I had seen around the same time revealing the naked truth about 75 years of naturism, the councillors may have been more accommodating. The programme confirmed what I’ve always suspected about naturists – they’re just nerds in the nude. Only a naturist can make frolicking round completely starkers seem positively train-spotteresque.

They don’t even frolic. They just rip off all their clothes . . . and have a committee meeting. Or of they’re feeling particularly hedonistic they might have a barbeque in the buff. Insert sizzling sausage joke here.

When the documentary addressed the subject of “they must be kinky”, however, there was a heart-stopping moment. They had felt obliged to put a suitably Channel 4 spin on naturism so we didn’t just get lots of wobbly archive film of wobbly-bottomed naturists having committee meetings and barbeques. All the contributors were interviewed naked, well not all the contributors – just the really old, wrinkly ones.

When one old gent, sitting splayed-legged in his armchair, responded to the assertion that unclothed camping holidays must be a bit saucy, he spluttered, “That’s a lot of absolute b…..” Oh no, I thought, surely he’s not going to say that, not with them actually showing… “balderdash!” Phew.

Channel 4 continues to be the home of those who just can’t keep their clothes on – to the extent that, unlike the skinny-dip organisers it would be a relief sometimes if some of us were more not less “buttoned up.”

In recent weeks it has brought us Naked Attraction – a dating show in which single men and women select a date from six naked men or women. It makes Take Me Out look like Brief Encounter.

Those bidding to be chosen stand in illuminated boxes in which they are initially exposed from the waist down in merciless studio lighting.

The singleton picker then rejects the candidates one by one, explaining their reasons for jettisons the faceless hopefuls – such as not being enticed by the dangle of their nether regions or the curve of a buttock cheek. Excruciating doesn’t begin to cover it.

(Image: Wales News Service)

Finally they get to see their faces, choose the winner and go on a “clothed” date to see if the raw, primal urge of naked attraction has worked. Presenter Anna Richardson attempts to legitimise this televisual meat market by chucking in some psychobabble and graphics on the science of sexual attraction – why people like arm pits etc.

The only real anthropological information you’ll glean from this show, however, is every one under 30 in 21st century Britain doesn’t appear to have any body hair. And that’s just the men. The tattoo count is also massive

One critic has already dubbed it “Blind Date with knobs on” but Cilla Black never discussed the possible shades of areola with more detail than a Dulux colour chart.

But fair play, the candidates were impressively relaxed about letting it all hang out. A skinny Welsh chap who looked like Harry Potter chatted away amiably as if he was in a fully clothed Post Office queue rather than exposing his bits on national television.

One of the dating show nudists did later admit his parents were disappointed. Perhaps they didn’t know about his strategically placed elephant tattoo.

While some critics have been savage, identifying Naked Attraction as the end of televisual civilisation as we know it, it’s been a ratings hit. It would be interesting to know if the viewer demographic is mainly wide-eyed pubescent boys excited about boobies. Probably not. They can see them on the smartphones every day.

And similarly the shock value of Naked Attraction was soon stripped away as yet another appendage drooped on the screen or a bare bum wobbled and all that remained was the slight ridiculousness of the human body in the altogether.

Which is why the prospect of today’s nudist invasion of the Vale of Glamorgan should not alarm. The Great British Skinny Dip off Monk Nash beach won’t be a remotely salacious swim – faced with the naked truth we’re more likely to giggle than goggle.