There’s A Nude Restaurant In London With a 16,00 Person Waiting List And We Have Questions
There are lots of things that are better enjoyed in the nude: watching old seasons of RuPaul’s Drag Race while eating Triscuits; smoking weed while reading a book in the good chair by the window; sex; walking from room to room in your home when everyone else is out of the house, taking stock and looking for your favorite sweatshirt. Nowhere on this list is eating food with strangers in a public place, because that sounds like the punchline of a joke that doesn’t land from a comedian wearing square toed loafers in 1996. But, Bayundi, a pop-up restaurant in London wants to make this potentially nightmarish scenario a reality.
According to the Washington Post, the restaurant has a waiting list that’s 1,600 people long and purports to strip away the artificiality of the modern dining experience “such as artificial colors, chemicals and gas, metal and plastic in the kitchen and electric lights, smartphones and clothing in the dining area.” You see how they snuck “clothing” in there too, as if it were perfectly normal and okay and fine to go to a restaurant and eat some fancy shit in the nude served to you by waiters who are not quite undressed but almost?
Hmm. The idea behind the restaurant, of course, is body positivity and a sort of “social nudist experiment” that will allow patrons to take the chance to revel in their bodies, no matter how they look, while eating food. Here are some of the (thankfully) strict rules for this restaurant.
Photography is banned. The cutlery will be edible, and patrons will be given access to a changing room with a locker before they arrive at their table. To avoid contaminating seats with their nude bodies, diners will be asked to sit on their robes. The kitchen staff with be clothed, but waiters will have minimal covering for hygienic purposes.
While I am relieved that the kitchen staff will be clothed for hygienic purposes and the wait staff will be covered, I still have questions about the logistics of this restaurant and the purported 16,000 people on the wait list for the privilege of eating food in the nude in close proximity of strangers.
I need more information on how eating food behind a bamboo screen in the nude will make me feel better about my body.
Great question. Really valid question. Seb Lyall, the founder of this thing, says that “consuming food in public sans clothing is “an act of rebellion.” Apparently this act of rebellion is the first step in breaking down the bad things we think about our body, via…eating vegan carbonara naked?
Do you have to be naked to eat at this restaurant?
Let’s think that through. If you chose to go to a restaurant full of naked people who were all willing to get naked of their own volition, would you want people who were clothed eating at the same establishment? Doesn’t that sound worse?
While I appreciate the aesthetics of eating my dinner nude on a tree stump, is that sanitary and what will be done to protect my tender undercarriage from splinters/other people’s tender undercarriage, uh, remnants?
Much like when you go to a nakey sauna and sweat it out with the other bodies, you will have to sit on a robe when you eat here for “sanitation.”
Walk me through how one undresses and where the clothes that I ostensibly shed to participate in this Vanessa Beecroft-esque expeirment reside while I’m eating.
See above. You will disrobe in a locker room, presumably under lighting that is more flattering than than that of the changing quarters of the barre class you go to on Sundays. That sounds fun, right?
Temperature regulation seems like a concern.
No shit. If it’s too cold, that sounds like a bunch of amuses bouche with a side of nipples. If it’s too hot, I’m getting hints of body odor with a rank undercurrent of…yeah. Hope they’ve got this on lock!
What price must I pay for the privilege of eating food while naked, if I refuse to do this in my own home, where it is ostensibly free?
Each diner will be served a five-course meal that will run them between $80-90. Also, the aforementioned robe is yours to keep, which, my god, it better be.
Sold. Got it. Check. Should I go here?