It’s time to face the bare truth of the matter: the undergraduate sector of Stanford University has a bit of an obsession with nudity. And though that is somewhat to be expected in a collection of suddenly free and slightly befuddled 18 to 22 year olds, our case seems to be exceptional. Save convocation, none of our cherished traditions can truly commence until someone takes their clothes off.

There is Gaieties. There is essentially every event involving the band. There is Secret Snowflake, which for some Freudian reason is one of the most dearly loved events of freshman year. This year, there was the slightly altered Full Moon on the Quad, during which the threat of swine flu was combated with getting naked — apparently a panacea. Then comes exam week, and does the best way to calm the nerves of anxious, library-bound classmates even need to be questioned? Simply treat them to a view of yourself in the buff, and all their worries will fade. Duh.

So what’s the reason for all this exhibitionism? It stands in stark contrast to many other institutions of higher learning. Our student body seems so buttoned-up and practical — until the buttons are undone, and our true wild nature is exposed. We go to class, we do our “econ p-sets,” we chat with our parents, we engage in some sort of intimidatingly global social activism, and then, well, what’s left but to shed our sartorial trappings and run around like a mischievous three-year-old who doesn’t want to take a bath?

One could argue, I suppose, that clothes are quite a bit environmentally unfriendly. So if we’re composting like mad and buying organic and killing ourselves on our earth systems homework, why should we sabotage our efforts by sporting cloth made by oppressed children and pollution-belching machines? That isn’t the spirit of Stanford.

Or maybe our biology classes cannot contain our appreciation for the majesty of the human body. After long nights spent studying anatomy, who can blame us for wanting to bring our learning to life? After all, we want to be the best doctors possible. So any extra exposure to the human physique must be helpful. Basically, school-wide events are a continuation of lab class.

Perhaps the prevalence of nudity intends to bolster our faith in progress and liberalism. So your school helped campaign to put the first black president in office, so what? We’re way past that. Seventeen percent of freshmen are first-generation college students, AND we run around naked at school-sanctioned functions! Beat that!

And there’s our intense pride in being “quirky.” Stanford is a place where fun exists alongside academic rigor, and where any student goal, no matter how ambitious or offbeat, can be realized. You can build and program a smarter computer. You can start a nonprofit in Djibouti. You can strut around in nothing but your skin, and it’s totally cool. You can have it all.

Of course, we could just be immature teenagers, excited to uncouth proportions by our new-found freedom and the opportunity to indulge our proud wackiness at none other than Stanford University.

Nope. It’s definitely more profound than that.

-Ann Tyler Moses ’13