Inside London's first naked restaurant: The staff wear nothing but shrubbery and diners get 'fruity' after clay cups full of organic white wine and avocado cocktails
London's first naked restaurant, Bunyadi, opened its doors last night
Restaurant, in Elephant and Castle, has 46,000 people on waiting list
Diners feast on five totally natural courses - and even cutlery is edible
Emily Hodgkin, 24, and James Dunn, 31, visited on its opening night
London's first naked restaurant - which boasts 46,000 people on its waiting list - opened its doors last night in a secret location in south east London. The head chef of London's newest out-there dining experience said he hoped that being nude will help diners concentrate on their food and encourage them to 'try new cuisines'. Only open for three months, Bunyadi claims it offers 'pure liberation', offering the experience of eating in its 'purest' form. But will the £69 tasting menu be the sole thing on everyone's mind?Two MailOnline journalists meet for the first time - naked - and share their experiences at Bunyadi from a male and Femail perspective.
Emily's experience
On the way to the restaurant I realise I'm feeling pretty intense nerves, like first date nerves, which is weird because I never get naked on first dates.
Being nude doesn't bother me at all - I'm more than happy with my body - and I'm feeling a sort of thrill knowing I'll soon be swanning around as naked as the day I was born.
I picture myself as an ethereal creature, casting off my clothes and prancing around like one of Joseph Tomanek's Nymphs Dancing to Pan's Flute.
There are certainly some Dionysian vibes in The Bunyadi. The waiters and waitresses are naked despite some leaves and flesh coloured underwear covering their most intimate parts. It's all very Ancient Grecian.
However, my lofty ideals of bohemian public nudity didn't quite come true.
Walking into The Bunyadi - a dingy-looking, unmarked pub decipherable thanks only to the body guard at the entrance - I'm hit by a wave of humid heat (perhaps to encourage me to strip).
Immediately my head begins to bead with sweat and I'm torn between a refreshing cocktail and hearing to the changing rooms - where I'm given a locker, a fluffy dressing gown and white slippers.
It's unbearably warm I think, as a whip off my skirt, so much so that I don't think I've ever been so excited to get my clothes off - sorry ex-boyfriends.
Once in my robe I slink into the dark, labyrinth like restaurant. While I - the exhibitionist - am expecting an open and lit space, the layout of the restaurant evokes a cocooning and soothing atmosphere thanks to the private dining booths, encircled by bamboo.
I dined with a female companion (trust me, there is nothing more depressing than failing to get a date when a precursor of the night is that you will be naked) and the experience felt a lot like the relaxed spa experiences I'm used to with my female friends.
While I can't imagine two blokes, however much the best of friends they may be, stripping off to enjoy Tartare together, nudity among female friends feels natural.
We go to toilet in front of one another in nightclubs - topless dining is nothing.
One diner suggests that the place would be a hit with hen and stag dos. While I can maybe picture the former, I imagine a group of men shrugging of their robes and being served by a waitress wearing more clothes than them is unlikely, considering that - sadly - the dynamic is usually very much the other way around.
Eventually I get used to the heat and enjoy the low-key lounging feel. It's not so much that we are making a point of nibbling in the nude, it's that now we've left the high heels and tight dresses at the door the mood of the experience has totally changed.
I could be at a chilled out sleepover, rather than one of London's most exciting dining experiences.
The crowd seems very mixed. My companion was shocked to come face to face with an elderly couple wandering in the space between the private pods proudly displaying their bodies.
While some are very earnest about the concept - 'Do you have vegan wine?' we hear one woman enquire - others flout the rules.
A couple who are on quite a flirty date in the booth next door are happily Snapchatting away. Halfway through the meal their booth suddenly goes dark.
At first I think they have pulled a curtain across the thin spaces between the bamboo before I see some movement
Immediately we quieten in the hopes of catching the couple in a clandestine clinch.
Unfortunately they are caught by the waitress before anything can get fruity over the already fruit-dense menu.
'Oh no, our candle seems to have blown out,' the male exclaims - not at all convincingly.
I ask the incredibly friendly topless waitress if it feels strange to her to be (not) wearing this unusual uniform.
Source : Dailymail
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