The New Yorker:

The country has long been a haven for those who believe nudity is a virtue. A new exhibit explores the movement—and lets guests strip down themselves.

By Lauren Collins

Marseille’s Museum of European and Mediterranean Civilizations (Mucem) is a lattice-shrouded, shadow-throwing complex that juts over the waters of the city’s old port. Despite the seaside vibe, its code of conduct states that “perfect correctness, particularly in dress, is demanded of visitors; it is for example forbidden to walk around shirtless or barefoot.” Yet, on a recent afternoon, as a man strode across the entrance hall in nothing but a floral pareo and a lanyard—i.e., shirtless and barefoot—no one seemed bothered in the slightest. The museum, which was closed to the general public for the day, was offering a special tour of its big summer exhibition, “Paradis Naturistes” (“Naturist Paradises”). In keeping with the show’s theme, guests, such as the man in the lobby, would be allowed to shed their clothes, store them, and stroll through the galleries naked.

The museum was hosting the event in conjunction with the Fédération Française de Naturisme, which has represented the interests of naturists in France since 1950. Today, they number about 4.7 million—including the two and a half million who visit the country each year, making France Europe’s No. 1 destination for naturist tourism. A note about vocabulary: naturism, per the F.F.N., refers to “a manner of living in harmony with nature, characterized by the practice of communal nudity, and which consequently fosters self-respect, respect for others, and respect for the environment.” You can be a nudist without being a naturist, in other words, but you can’t be a naturist without being a nudist.

Go to link