The dangers of skinny dipping

Several years ago, I went for a swim after I’d been for a job interview. I’d just finished my lengths, had my shower, and as I wrestled my knickers back on, a voice from behind me said ‘It’s Ettie, isn’t it?’ Quite how she recognised my bare bottom I don’t know, but the woman who’d interviewed me earlier in the day was certainly keen to continue our conversation, up close, personal and starkers. And for those of you who’ve never tried, I can assure you that trying to juggle one’s bosom into a bra in a flustered hurry when one is still slightly damp to protect what shreds of self-respect remain is inelegant at best. 

The whole exchange left me wondering about naked etiquette. Was she Germanically uninhibited or was I a total prude in my intensely awkward nakedness? I’m not one of those types who bolts herself into a changing room to don my togs lest someone catch sight of a flailing breast, but I certainly don’t spin out the stripping.