Out of the Habit

The solution was to not be a nun. At least in all outward appearance - Also something the Church didn't approve of here in the 1960's. The Church definitely didn't approve of their nuns being naked in public. She herself didn't approve of it!

And it went against her modesty. The only reason she had worn bikinis in her surfer days was because of the teasing she got when she wore one pieces. She loved how her habit covered her from her hair to her ankles. But it would deja vu all over again if she were the odd one out among people who rejected clothes. There were probably some good Catholics among them, but they might make fun of her, too. There are many with unhappy parochial school memories and have it in for nuns.

"It's not like you to take so long to make a decision. Make one, Frances - I mean, Bertrille!"

Just as Bertrille took her first step, she noticed flashbulbs going off. They had just started. They were down near the volleyball court. It was hard to see details from this far away, but it was certainly a woman taking the photos. A naked woman. And she was with two men. Two naked men. One of them was holding microphone at the end of a pole; the other had a movie camera. "So this is the kind of nudist resort this place is," Bertrille said, her heart sinking.

That was the final push she needed. She wasn't going to let them film a nun in a nudist resort! Even if she did, what kind of nun would she be presenting!? Her proud novice nun habit was wrinkled, dirty, torn, and bent out of shape! She was already 'out of uniform'. She made her decision, and refused to think to any consequences.

Bertrille slipped behind the tree. The headpiece had to go. She unpinned cornette and then the veil that surrounded her head above her bangs. Carefully folded so it didn't touch the ground she placed the veil inside the upside down cornette.

The next thing to go would be the most sacred part of her habit, what kept her loose scapula apron close to her body, her rosary belt. She could have put it back on after she looked like a nudist, but there was something sacrilegious about that idea. Besides, it would be odd to say the least. It would draw comment. And a rosary belt was something a nun would have. She wished to draw as little attention to herself - and her calling - as possible.

Setting it reverently aside, she slipped out of her full-length, white, linen apron. This, too, she folded neatly. Next to come off was her white, linen dress. Now she was getting uneasy. Her white, cotton bra was coming into view. And, as she sloughed off the dress, her white, cotton panties. She told herself, "Bertrille, don't think about them. People won't be seeing them."

And the people will be nudists. They won't have on any underwear, either. Thinking like that, it took less bravery to unhook her bra and let her B cups leave her breasts. (She was already uncomfortable having her breasts be loose and dangling.) She put the bra on top of the pile of apron, and dress. Her panties soon joined them.

The last to go were her white, cotton garter belt and black, opaque hose. And the one shoe she had on. The other one was still stuck up the tree. They were too noticeably old-fashioned, sensible to be 'normal', anyway.