The naked bike ride before the Fremont Solstice Parade kicks off Seattle’s summer. JESSICA STEIN
Where does one even begin with Seattle and nakedness? How about in 1970 (or so), with a man named Faygele ben Miriam, a prominent gay rights warrior, Radical Faerie, and strident “effeminist” who would show up at queer community meetings wearing “dresses that were not as long as his dong,” as one person recalled it to me a few years back.
“That’s asking a lot of your audience,” this person said.
True. And yet, as RuPaul points out as often as possible, “we’re all born naked.” For Ru, “the rest is drag,” but perhaps for you the rest is finding a chance to get naked again—in public.
