The naked group
The ones of all ages who congregate in the sauna to chat and sweat and talk about the roadworks on the M25 that are driving everyone mad and whether Russia fixed the US Election – but naked.
The one who will discreetly turn her back on you as you get changed or as she gets changed in case anyone feels awkward about the nakedness or you wrongly feel she is looking at your boobs (she would never look at your boobs).
The topless hair dryer
The one who takes a long time meticulously drying her hair – but with only her bottom-half clothed and her boobs out as if she were just relaxing at home.
The shy dresser
The one who tries to get dressed with a towel wrapped round her so no one sees an inch of flesh. It takes her twice as long than if she just threw caution to the wind and freed the nipple.
The solitary nude wanderer
The one who drifts about the changing room for no apparent reason with a microphone bush that has never seen a waxing strip. She might let it dry naturally, she might give it a quick blast with the hairdryer. But she’ll always end up putting herself into all kinds of nothing-left-to-the-imagination positions while she applies body moisturiser.
The confident pensioner
The one who is definitely over seventy and has moved into that very healthy headspace where she could not care less about anyone’s nakedness, let alone her own. She’ll happily listen to a story about someone else’s grandson as she slaps clouds of talc under each arm and lets it all gloriously hang out.
The excessive talker
The one who sits in their underwear in front of your locker, staring at themselves in the mirror and talking very loudly on their mobile phone: “So I said to him, ‘If you do that again, we’re only going on one skiing holiday this year, do not push me, Ambrose’.” / “Did you see what she was wearing? Who does she think she is, Cher or something?” / “It’s not a party wall! How many more times??”