Naked bunch

Worcester Area Naked Guys find security by socializing in the buff

by Kristen Lombardi

On a recent Saturday night, Dave* caught the social bug. As a 42-year-old gay man, who says he doesn't hide his homosexuality but doesn't flaunt it either, Dave didn't go to Worcester's obvious gay clubs -- the A-Men and MB Lounge. Instead, he headed for a party. There he found 25 or so men -- truck drivers, therapists, retirees -- chatting, eating lasagna, sipping soda, swaying to soft rock.

This was, of course, a social for gay and bisexual men. But these guys had something else in common: they were nude.

Dave paid the $5 fee and, in return, received a plastic bag with a twist-tie. He stripped, stuffed his jeans and T-shirt in the bag, and proceeded to have a grand time.

"It was a huge success," he recalls. "I look forward to the next one."

Dave never considered himself a nudist per se. But after eight years living in the Worcester area, he's had to struggle to meet other gay men. Middle age has left him rather impatient with the poseurs and lookers so common to bar scenes. And since he's not into the "sleazier" venues, such as highway rest stops and porn shows, there are hardly any outlets available to him -- except, that is, the Worcester Area Naked Guys.

Worcester Area Naked Guys is a highly secretive, naturist club for gay and bisexual men who wish to remain in the closet yet who want to socialize. Its members get together monthly, in and around Worcester, to mix and to chat about what they often refer to as "gay stuff" -- things kept separate from the rest of their lives. In this sense, their nudity is a symbol: they strip off their clothes, as well as the social restrictions defining their workaday worlds.

On a national scale, this is not so unusual. In the past 15 or so years, gay-naturist groups have formed throughout the country, in places like Albuquerque (Naked and Not Ashamed), New York (Males Au Naturel), and Seattle (the Olympians). Right now, in fact, gay naturism is more popular than ever before with thousands of men participating.

Nakedness, as Dave explains, "adds an interesting dimension. It's fun to hang out with a bunch of naked guys."

But in Worcester, where the gay community remains largely underground, the Worcester Area Naked Guys isn't just fun. Not only does it get them away from the young fashion-obsessed gay club scene, but it is a kind of safe, worry-free oasis for gay men here, especially those who came of age at a time when American society did nothing but degrade them.

Throughout much of his adulthood, Mike*, 66, the founder of the Worcester Area Naked Guys, led the clichéd double life. His homosexuality became apparent to him as a teen, when his buddies gushed over girls, yet he was more inclined to gush over boys. Rather than risk being disowned by loved ones, Mike did what was expected: he got married; he had children; he worked in the very manly field of construction.

But all the while, Mike would steal into the city's few decidedly gay bars to rendezvous with his male lovers -- until his wife's friend spotted him. Mike was then forced to reveal his secret, which not only ended his long marriage but also prompted family members to ignore him for five years.

The traumatic experience helped foster Mike's current desire to socialize with gay men in protected settings, as opposed to bars. But finding these outlets has never been easy. So when a friend told Mike about a gay-naturist group in Springfield, he gave it a try. "I was nervous because I didn't know what to expect," Mike recalls. At first, he sat by himself, naked. Yet once he started to mingle, he says, "I felt at home. . . . I felt less constricted, less self-conscious meeting people in the nude."

Even more appealing was the fact that, in one night, Mike had met men from Springfield, as well as from New York and New Haven. It wasn't long before he was regularly traveling to gay-naturist gatherings in cities like Boston, Providence, and Hartford.

After seven years, Mike became wary of driving distances, especially since his vision deteriorated. "So I figured, `Why not start my own group?'" he explains. "There's certainly a need in Worcester." In a matter of months, Mike distributed fliers, posted Internet ads, and, by June 1998, launched Worcester Area Naked Guys, known by its catchy, tongue-in-cheek acronym, WANG (slang for penis).

Since then, WANG has grown from 10 to 30 members, most of them are professionals in their 40s, 50s, and 60s -- doctors, teachers, lawyers -- who want to remain in the closet. "They cannot go public because they might lose clients," Mike says. Several WANG members, for instance, are state and city employees.

"WANG is a social club," he adds, "so gay men can meet other gay men without going public."

Indeed, the fledgling group, which aims to serve gay and bisexual adult males of "all races, creeds, sizes, shapes, types, and ages," is the epitome of discretion. New members usually come recommended by regulars; if not, they must undergo an extensive interview meant to weed out trouble -- alcoholics, addicts, poseurs, gawkers. As Dave puts it, "WANG gets rid of the wackos."

Although WANG parties provide members with an intimate, informal atmosphere, free of rigid rules and board meetings, there is a certain scripted quality to them. Members wishing to attend a Saturday social must contact Mike, who compiles an attendance list. The Friday before an event, members are told where in Worcester County to go. Suffice it to say, a WANG party-goer never shows up on impulse.

Then again, party-goers elsewhere don't hobnob in the buff either.

As a gay-naturist group, WANG represents part of an ever-expanding segment within the naturism movement -- a 23-year-old movement centered in states like California, Florida, and New Jersey -- that tries to promote "healthy, non-sexual, nude recreation." Simply put, naturists believe clothing is not essential to moral living; nudity is actually seen as a way to break down social barriers of class, race, and religion.

"People do it for freedom, comfort, or liberation from body comparisons," explains Nicky Hoffman, administrative director at the Naturist Society, a Wisconsin organization boasting 25,000 members. Ultimately, when you strip away people's clothes, she adds, "Everyone is pretty much equal."

This may sound sensible enough, but naturism, as a lifestyle, is still widely misunderstood. People, in general, have a tough time separating nakedness from sex. And so, the most common misconception of naturist clubs is that they're gatherings for, as Hoffman says, "a bunch of perverts" seeking an orgy.

Perhaps because gay naturism is connected to not one but two societal taboos -- namely, nudity and homosexuality -- public misperceptions are far more abundant. "People hear the words `gay' and `naked' and they immediately think `orgy'," says Paul, 49, a WANG member who's been running a similar group, Bare Bottoms/Boston, for the past three years.

But the majority of gay-naturist groups are not like the well-known public bathhouses of the 1970s and '80s, which really were sex havens for gay men and, as such, were forced to shut down at the height of the AIDS epidemic. WANG, for example, doesn't tolerate unwanted, uncomfortable sexual advances. If the feeling's mutual, members may kiss or hold hands, yet open masturbation and sex are prohibited. Aside from naked bodies, members insist, there's nothing particularly interesting, let alone outrageous, going on at club functions.

"It's just a different outlet and context for gay men to socialize," Paul says, adding that, unless you happen to be a voyeur, "you would probably find the parties boring."

Maybe. Yet the clubs are becoming more and more popular among gay men nowadays. In fact, they're the fastest-growing division in the naturist movement. "Gay naturism has taken off," says Jim Lewis, administrator for the Atlanta-based organization, International Men Enjoying Naturism (IMEN), an umbrella group helping local chapters network. When Lewis first got involved, in 1985, there were only a handful of clubs in cities with significant gay populations, such as San Francisco and Los Angeles. Today, IMEN's directory lists more than 100 clubs nationwide.

For Lewis, this kind of prevalence can be attributed, in part, to America's continued reluctance to accept gays. "People still make such a big deal about homosexuality," he adds. "Without [gay-naturist] groups, some gay men would have nowhere to go."

Ask a gay or bisexual man in Worcester about the city's gay community and you'll most likely get a response tinged with sarcasm: What gay community? Those who offer up some kind of description say it's smaller, quieter, and far more closeted than its counterparts in Boston, Providence, and even Springfield.

This is partly because gay men here have grown accustomed to socializing elsewhere. It is also because they've had to contend with the community-at-large's "provincial, conservative" standards. Despite the advances gays and lesbians have made in the past decades, those in Worcester will tell you there hasn't been substantial progress toward public dialogue about and, therefore, acceptance of homosexuality.

This gay community has only been pushed further underground.

In the words of one gay man, who has lived in the city for 30 years, "There is a lot of homophobia in Worcester so gay men come out to a very select few -- if they come out."

Even if Worcester were more tolerant, it takes a great deal of courage for gays and lesbians to come out. "People still are bombarded by fears and anxieties about being gay," says Lee Ellenberg, associate director at Fenway Community Health Center in Boston, which runs support groups for gay men. And it's no wonder, considering that those who do come out open themselves up to not just the risk of losing family and status but the risk of losing their lives -- evidenced by the brutal beating murder of gay college student Matthew Shepard, whose death last year became an instant symbol of homophobic hatred nationwide.

Such incidents terrify gay men, convincing them that it's easier to survive in the closet. "So what happens," Ellenberg explains, "is that `cruising areas' pop up around town." Gay men, in other words, seek unknown, yet precarious locations, such as highway rest stops, to hook up, making themselves vulnerable to assault, arrest, and robbery. Or they look to the anonymity of Internet chat rooms, which can turn out ugly as well. Case in point: the Cambridge man lured to Webster last year by two men pretending to be gay on-line; the Cambridge man arrived at the destination only to be pummeled by the Webster men.

All this and more has left Ted, a bisexual who, as with Mike, had led the closeted double life for years, lamenting the lack of social outlets. Ted, 62, has grown tired of the city's gay bars, the "prima donna" attitudes. "You know," he explains, "someone walking around like a peacock saying, `Look but don't touch.'" The gay community, which is considered to be young, buffed, and blond, doesn't appear to take kindly to aging men.

"In gay life," Ted says, "if you're over 40, you're a dinosaur."

Things were looking pretty bleak for Ted -- until a friend told him about WANG. "My first thought was, `Oh, that's kind of neat,'" he recalls. And while the notion of getting naked sounded somewhat kinky, he couldn't pass up the chance to expand his social circle.

Now that Ted is a WANG regular, attending as many as six events so far, he says he looks forward to the sociable, sincere scene there -- a scene, in many ways, he credits to the nudity factor. After all, he says, "no one can parade around like a VP or CEO in their birthday suits."

Although it is true that WANG maintains a "strictly nudist" policy, which probably prevents most gay men from checking out the group, the curious, brave-of-hearts will undoubtedly give it a try. And what they discover will likely keep them returning -- because, ultimately, WANG offers a safe, private setting, where gay men, in particular older ones, can expect to be treated with a respect the outside world has yet to give them.

If anything, the less-than-tolerant climate here stands to encourage WANG's survival. As Ted says, "Opportunities to meet gay men are very limited in this provincial fishbowl we call Worcester."

Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com.