I’m all for being ‘au naturale’ when the mood strikes. Imagine skipping down a sandy, isolated beach on a hot, sunny day with the waves crashing onto the shoreline, and a Bahaman breeze in your hair. Envision all your tanned parts dangling in freedom and the World embracing this vision of nakedness that houses your soul. Fast Forward to reality. The beach is Edmonton, Alberta in February. It is 25 below outside. Your skin is as white and pasty as a cream puff. And, there are twenty other sweaty, male bodies co-habitating the same small, germicidal petri dish of a yoga space. Ewwwww These courageous guys are forgetting the dog, and learning to moon. Don’t get me wrong. I love the fact that these brave men are doing it for themselves. The celebration of the human body is a wonderful thing.
However, in a sweaty, hot, yoga class, some things should be ‘contained’, including the nutsack. If you’re going to embrace the practice – please manscape. It is really the least you can do for the neighbour stuck behind you.