'I went to a nude movie screening to practice 'body neutrality'. Here's what happened.'

It's Sunday afternoon, and the movie I've bought tickets for starts in a few hours. The friend I planned to go with has pulled out at the last minute, claiming he's too much of a 'coward', and I can't find anyone else to accompany me. Not my partner, not my sister, not any of my friends.

The movie in question is Zoolander, the (mostly) inoffensive 2000s comedy starring Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson, which is now a stone cold classic. And the reason I can't find anyone to attend with me is not because I'm terrible company, I hope. I was even covering the cost of the tickets. It's because once we entered the dark cinema at The Ritz in Randwick, an iconic and beautiful place to see films, we'd all be taking off our clothes to watch the movie. All our clothes. This was a nude screening, part of the Fantastic Film Festival Australia's weird and wonderful program this year.

Watch: What you need to know about negative self talk. Post continues after video.

When I saw an ad for a nude screening pop up on my social media feed, I couldn't click fast enough. I didn't even really care what movie was screening, though funnily, when I told people about this screening most of them asked why Zoolander was the film. I don't have an answer but assume maybe, other than it being a general crowd pleaser, it's a generally non-sexual movie? Maybe something like Eyes Wide Shut would have elicited a.. different type of crowd. But the idea of being naked in somewhere like a cinema, with a bunch of other adults who have all consented to being naked and seeing other nude people, was just too intriguing for me.

Firstly, because I'm always trying to say yes to new experiences in life. I'm in my early 30s, and like so many others, feel like I lost a few years of travel, socialising and just living due to COVID and lockdowns (of course, acknowledging that so many people lost a lot more than that). It's made me think so much more about stepping outside my comfort zone and trying new things. And while I know a nude screening is not everyone's cup of tea, it sounded like so much fun to me. I imagined all the different types of people that would attend, maybe some nudists, some newbies like me, all laughing along to classic quotes like "what is this... a centre for ants!" all the while acutely aware that no one was wearing a stitch of clothing.

The other reason I wanted to attend was because I am practicing 'body neutrality'; which to me is the act of not loving or hating your body, but acknowledging it is a vessel to get you through the world, and in many ways what it looks like is not particularly important. I am interested in exploring nudity in non-sexual environments, in a world where what we wear and what we look like often elicits unwanted comments and opinions. Like most women, what my body looks like has been such a focus for most of my life - am I small enough? Pretty enough? Is there hair and 'curves' and muscle in only the right places? For me, nudity was only explored in sexual scenarios shared with another person, or in the harsh light and personal judgment of the bathroom. I now feel like nudity needs to be reclaimed, and a cinema surprisingly felt like a perfect place to do that; it's dark, and everyone is sitting down facing the same way, with a movie to focus on instead of a room of exposed genitals.

Faced with the prospect of seeing the film by myself, which didn't seem as appealing, I put a shout out on my Instagram stories for any 'girls, gays or theys' who'd like to attend with me. Amongst the barrage of messages from friends enquiring exactly what the f**k I was thinking, was a message from a lovely individual I used to hang out with about eight years ago, and I knew was no stranger to getting naked, asked me to keep them in mind as a companion. I jumped at the chance to reconnect in this bizarre way.

We planned to meet at the cinema, and as I was the one hosting this catch up, I gingerly packed an extra towel for my friend to sit on (you weren't thinking that we were all putting our bare asses on the movie seats, were you?). After a quick catch up over a beer where I informed them I had, in fact, bought them a spare 'ass towel', we headed into the cinema where we were greeted by the screening's organiser dressed only in a robe.

The first thing that caught my eye as we descended into the cinema was the shiny glint of a pierced penis. As we followed two young women in, I noticed that there wasn't any 'type' of person that this experience seemed to attract. I also noticed that the cinema wasn't exactly packed, so we were able to find an empty row. As we disrobed (you were only allowed to take off your clothes once inside the cinema, and you had to put your clothes back on to go to the bathroom or candy bar) it was everything I'd hoped; absolute freedom and confirmation that being naked with other people could be relaxing and empowering, even in this unconventional context as Ben Stiller flashed his 'Blue Steel' across the enormous screen.

Listen to Fill My Cup where Allira Potter is joined by Carmen Azzopardi to talk about her battle with body neutrality. Post continues after podcast.

A few less earth shattering things I noticed; while this cinema was nowhere near as cold as a usual one, the few times a slight breeze seemed to flow through the place, I really felt it. Also, have you ever been eating popcorn at a movie and dropped a few pieces on your lap? Not a big deal usually. Being naked, however... I'm just going to leave it at the phrase 'popcorn pubes'.

I truly loved this experience and would recommend it for anyone nude-curious, if you get the opportunity. Otherwise there are other ways to embrace your natural self, from topless beaches to unabashedly changing in a gym locker room without awkwardly trying to keep a towel wrapped around yourself. You owe it to yourself not to hide.

Feature Image: Supplied/Mamamia.

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