History of Naturism
Naturism in Britain has a history stretching back more than a century. Inspired by the European Freikörperkultur (Free Body Culture) movement in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, early British naturists embraced the idea that spending time without clothes in natural surroundings could benefit both physical and mental wellbeing.
During the 1920s and 1930s, small groups began meeting on private land to enjoy fresh air, sunshine and exercise without clothing. These early pioneers often formed clubs that promoted healthy living, respect for nature and social equality rather than simply recreational nudity.
Following the end of the Second World War, naturism grew steadily. More clubs opened across Britain, campsites welcomed naturists, and organised holidays became increasingly popular. By the 1960s and 1970s, changing social attitudes towards the human body and personal freedom helped naturism become more visible, although it remained a relatively niche lifestyle.
The late 20th century saw the growth of organised events, beaches, swims, sporting activities and social gatherings, while the internet transformed how naturists connected with one another. Online communities made it easier for people to discover naturism, ask questions and find welcoming groups before attending their first event.
As the movement matured throughout the second half of the twentieth century, naturism gradually evolved beyond organised clubs and holiday centres. While these remained important meeting places, many people embraced naturism as a way of life rather than simply a recreational activity. For countless British naturists, the freedom to live without unnecessary clothing became part of everyday life at home, in private gardens, on camping holidays and during time spent enjoying the countryside.
The legal and social landscape also continued to change. Public attitudes towards the human body became more relaxed, and greater emphasis was placed on individual freedoms, body acceptance and respect for others. Although misunderstandings about naturism persisted, those within the community consistently promoted values of mutual respect, personal responsibility and non-sexual social nudity.
Throughout the latter decades of the twentieth century, Britain's naturist community became increasingly diverse. People from all walks of life discovered naturism for different reasons. Some were drawn by the opportunity to connect with nature, others by the positive effects on confidence and mental wellbeing, while many simply appreciated the equality that comes from removing the visual markers of status, fashion and appearance.
The arrival of the internet transformed the movement once again. Websites, forums and social media enabled people to learn about naturism from the comfort of their own homes, connect with experienced naturists and find events and communities across the country. What had once been a relatively isolated pastime became far more accessible, helping to dispel myths and making it easier for newcomers to ask questions before taking their first steps into the community.
Today, British naturism continues to evolve. Traditional clubs and campsites remain an important part of its heritage, but modern naturism is equally at home on woodland walks, beaches, wild swims, cycle rides, wellness retreats and in the privacy of people's own homes. Increasingly, the emphasis has shifted towards wellbeing, body positivity, inclusion and community, reflecting a philosophy that values authenticity, kindness and respect above appearance.
While much of the history of organised naturism in Britain has been well documented, there are still chapters waiting to be explored. Beyond the established clubs and recognised organisations lie local stories, forgotten locations and community memories that have never found their way into history books. Some of these may offer new insights into how naturism developed in different parts of the country, particularly in regions where organised clubs were few but stories of social nudity have endured for generations.
Sodom Covert: A Forgotten Chapter in the History of Welsh Naturism?
History is not always found in museums or written in books.
Sometimes it survives in conversations, family memories and local folklore, quietly passed from one generation to the next until someone finally begins asking questions.
For me, that journey began with an intriguing story about Sodom Covert in Flintshire.
I was told that, long before organised naturist clubs existed in Britain, couples from across the Wirral would travel to this secluded corner of North Wales to enjoy the privacy and tranquillity that the landscape offered. According to local tradition, these visits began in the late nineteenth century and continued until around the outbreak of the First World War in 1914.
At first, I dismissed it as little more than an interesting tale.
Then I started digging.
One of the first pieces of documentary evidence came through correspondence with the National Archives, confirming that the Kinmel Estate sold the land surrounding Sodom Covert during the 1880s. While this does not prove that the site was used for social nudity, it does establish an important point in the history of the land, coinciding with the period in which local tradition suggests visitors began arriving.
The more I searched, the stranger the story became.
I contacted established naturist organisations with historical links to the area, including the Liverpool Sun & Air Club and the Wirral Naturist Club. Neither organisation could provide any documented history of Sodom Covert. Members of the Wirral club were aware of the story but knew little about its origins, while the oldest members of Liverpool Sun & Air Club had never heard of it.
That surprised me.
If the stories were true, they appeared to belong not to the history of organised naturism, but to something much older and far less documented.
The strongest accounts came not from naturists, but from local people.
Several members of farming families who grew up in the area during the 1950s and 1960s recalled being warned by their parents not to play near Sodom Covert because of "the naked people" who gathered there. These memories, repeated independently over the years, suggest that the location retained its reputation long after the First World War.
Whether those visitors were connected to the earlier stories is impossible to know.
Today, Sodom Covert remains a quiet and little-visited place. The surrounding land is not registered with HM Land Registry, although this does not necessarily mean it is ownerless. Hidden among the vegetation are the remains of what appear to be old shed-like structures. Their purpose remains unknown, and no evidence has yet been found linking them to the stories associated with the site.
Like so much of this investigation, they simply raise more questions than they answer.
It would be easy to dismiss stories like these because they cannot yet be fully proven.
But history is rarely that simple.
Many aspects of local history begin with oral tradition before later being supported by documentary evidence. Equally, some stories become embellished over time. The role of a historian is not to choose the story they prefer, but to follow the evidence wherever it leads.
That is why this article is not intended to make bold claims.
I cannot say that Sodom Covert was Britain's earliest naturist location.
I cannot say that it was home to an organised naturist community.
What I can say is this:
There is documentary evidence confirming a significant change in ownership of the land during the 1880s.
There is a long-standing oral tradition linking the site with visitors from the Wirral.
There are independent recollections from local farming families describing Sodom Covert as a place associated with naked visitors during the mid-twentieth century.
And there are still many unanswered questions.
Perhaps the true significance of Sodom Covert lies not in what we already know, but in what we have yet to discover.
If you have family memories, photographs, newspaper cuttings, maps, diaries or documents relating to Sodom Covert, I would love to hear from you.
The history of naturism in Wales is still being written.
Perhaps together we can uncover one of its earliest forgotten chapters.