From Sunlight to Freedom: The Origins of Naturism

When I first stepped onto a nude beach, I thought I was just joining a quirky modern hobby — a little sun, a little sand, and a whole lot less laundry. But naturism’s history? Turns out it’s older, braver, and a little more rebellious than I ever imagined. We’re talking late 1800s Europe, when people started looking around at the sooty, buttoned-up chaos of the Industrial Revolution and thinking, “Yeah… no thanks.” Instead of corsets, coal dust, and 12-hour workdays, they wanted fresh air, sunshine, and the kind of freedom you can only get when there’s nothing between you and the breeze.

And here’s the thing — it wasn’t about flashing the neighbors. It was about healing, wholeness, and reclaiming something society had slowly stolen: our right to simply exist in our own skin without shame.

A Rebellion in the Sunshine

Germany in the 1890s was the birthplace of Freikörperkultur — “Free Body Culture,” or FKK if you’re feeling efficient. And no, it wasn’t just a cute phrase for a summer picnic. This was an actual movement that said, “The human body isn’t dirty, society’s hang-ups are.”

One of the loudest (and occasionally most scandalous) voices was Heinrich Pudor, who in 1906 published Nacktkultur — a book basically declaring that nudity, vegetarianism, and exercise were the holy trinity of moral and physical health. Not surprisingly, the man made headlines and enemies in equal measure.

FKK started popping up in cities like Berlin, Hamburg, Dresden, and Munich, with nude bathing along lakes and rivers. Berlin’s Wannsee Lake became a hot spot for those eager to strip off and soak in the sun… often with police lurking nearby. In 1907, a group of Dresden bathers was actually arrested for “public indecency.” Their defense? They weren’t being naughty — they were practicing health culture. (Points for confidence.)

By 1923, the German League for Free Body Culture was official, boasting tens of thousands of members and enough activities to fill a summer calendar: hiking, gymnastics, swimming, and sunbathing — all nude, all unapologetic.

More Than Skin-Deep

Germany might have been the starting line, but naturism was running wild across Europe.

In France, Dr. Jean Baptiste Luc Planchon was all about naturisme hygiéniste — or, as I like to call it, “sun, salad, and strip.” In the 1890s, he promoted nude sunbathing, vegetarian diets, and fresh air therapy. Then along came Marcel Kienné de Mongeot, who wasn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with the law. In the 1920s, he was fined for nude sunbathing and took it to court, insisting that bare skin in nature was not obscene. Spoiler: his fight helped legitimize naturism in France. By 1931, he’d co-founded a naturist community on the Île du Levant, which is still a nudist destination today.

In Switzerland, mountain sanatoriums in Zurich and Lucerne were prescribing nude sunbathing to treat tuberculosis and other illnesses. The belief? Strip down, soak up the alpine rays, and your body would heal faster. (Honestly, I wouldn’t mind a prescription for that right now.)

And then there was England, home of tea, the Queen, and absolutely zero tolerance for public nudity back then. So naturists went underground — literally. Around 1924, the English Gymnosophical Society began hosting private nude gatherings on secluded estates. These were secretive, invite-only events with a guest list heavy on artists, writers, and free thinkers. If you got caught, you weren’t just dealing with scandal; you risked your career.

Crossing the Ocean

Naturism made its way to the U.S. thanks to German immigrants Kurt Barthel and his wife, who founded the American League for Physical Culture in 1929. Their first nude gathering, in September 1931, was so secretive attendees didn’t even get the address until after they’d signed the rules.

In 1932, Sky Farm opened in New Jersey as America’s first permanent nudist camp, and it’s still around today. Other clubs followed in Pennsylvania, Florida, and California — swapping European philosophy-heavy naturism for a more all-American vibe: volleyball, swimming pools, barbecues, and campfires.

Of course, early nudist clubs weren’t exactly welcomed with a fruit basket from the neighbors. There were raids, arrests, and court cases that drew a legal line between sexual activity and nonsexual social nudity. That distinction is one reason nudism exists legally in so many places today.

Why This History Still Matters

When I first got into naturism, I was not thinking about turn-of-the-century Germans skinny-dipping under police surveillance or Frenchmen arguing with judges about tan lines. I was thinking about sunscreen and maybe a good book by the lake.

But knowing the history — the arrests, the court battles, the sheer stubborn joy of it all — makes me appreciate every sunny day I spend in my skin. These early naturists weren’t chasing thrills; they were fighting for a world where bodies weren’t automatically seen as dirty or indecent.

And honestly? That fight is still going. Every time we step outside, naked and unashamed, we’re not just catching rays. We’re keeping a century-old rebellion alive. One that says nature — and we — are best experienced without layers.