On Sunday, at 2 p.m., a throng of people -- young and old, men and women -- congregated at the Alewife MBTA station, eager to participate in Boston's 4th annual "No Pants Subway Ride," a vaguely artistic "happening" wherein participants, at various points along the subway, remove their pants en mass and ride around beneath the streets of Boston, clad in only their underwear.  

What leads people to participate in an event like this?  

"I'm here just to take my pants off," said Owen Badger.  Alex (who asked that his last name be withheld, as he "works in finance") opines ironically, "The oppression of 'pantless' society needs to be fought against at any opportunity available."  Kayleigh (who also declined to give her last name) explains, "There are too many ordinary days.  Why not make it fun?"  

James Favreau, participating for his first year, takes a more thoughtful approach, characterizing the event as a "public curiosity."  What attracts Favreau is the fact that "spectators have no idea what the heck is going on."  

Following the rules (or not)

The event was coordinated by Boston's "Societies for Spontaneity," a kind of dadaist public art organization. It's part of a global "No Pants Subway Ride," that began in New York City in 2002 by "Improv Everywhere," an organization that "causes scenes of chaos and joy in public places," according to their website.  

The spirit of the No Pants Subway Ride involves a carefully cultivated illusion of spontaneity: participants depart from Alewife, disembark at various preordained stops, then get back on the subway, the effect of which is that "all of Boston is taking their pants off at the same time," Alex said.  And it is considered "against the rules" to explain what's going on to any curious passersby.  Participants are encouraged to make up an excuse, such as 'none of us felt like wearing pants,' or 'I donated them to a street-person.' 

The attitudes of participants varied widely.  Some wore false mustaches, some elaborate costumes.  Some came with friends and passed the time laughing, chatting, and even breaking into song; others rode alone, exhibiting an hilarious and ironic nonchalance, texting or reading as though it weren't at all unusual to ride the T in your underwear.  

The event regulations clearly state, "Regular underwear does not constitute indecent exposure [but] if you expose "certain parts" of your body or wear a thong or something see-through, the police won't be on your side anymore and neither will we." Although, this was not universally observed.  Also, a bevy of young women (in very provocative underpants) sitting in a row on the subway turn one's thoughts immediately to matters of hygiene.  

Beverly, who participated today for her second year, "coerced" her boyfriend George to come along.  

"So many people were involved," she recalls of last year, "and they were so enthusiastic and interesting to chat with."  Beverly enjoyed herself even more this time around, on account of the greater degree of organization.  

"Last year," she said, "it was much more disorganized, and a lot of people got lost in the confusion -- including me!  Getting lost is one thing, but in your underwear?"

Beverly and George, who asked that their last names be omitted, wore 'breakaway pants,' which, at the appointed time, they theatrically tore from each other's bodies.

MBTA worker: Why are none of you wearing pants?

Participants were to depart from Alewife, then to transfer at Downtown Crossing, taking the Orange Line to State Street, hence to the Blue Line.  But in an unexpected turn of events, the Blue Line was found to be out of order.  So, gasping and shivering at the cold wind, the merry horde left the relative warmth of the subway to board a shuttle bus.  

A flabbergasted MBTA worker hollered, "Why are none of you wearing pants!?!?" much to the amusement of the participants.  The shuttle bus bore them to Government Center, at which point they crowded onto the Green Line and rode it to their final destination, Hynes Convention Center in Back Bay.  

Their teeth chattering, participants paraded from Hynes Convention Center to McGreevy's on Boylston Street, where the event reached its official conclusion. Though in years past they've celebrated their antics with a round of drinks, this was the first year that an "official afterparty" was organized and promoted.

En route to McGreevy's, the participants were confronted by a number of dumbfounded passersby, some of which were far from amused.  Participants taunted the scandalized.  "Join us!  Be free!" they shouted, which did little to mitigate the outrage of passersby.  

One is reminded of Decadent poets, such as Rimbaud or Baudelaire, who adopted as their motto "épater le bourgeois" ("shock the bourgeois").  This contempt for "squares" was picked up by Futurist and Dada hooligans a half century later, and later still by Abbie Hoffman, Ken Keasey, and the like, in the form of "pranksterism."  There is no doubt that the "No Pants Subway Ride" draws from this tradition.      

At around 3:20 p.m., the crowd of pantless revelers poured into McGreevys, recalling scenes from the Santa Speedo Run, a charitable event which, a few weeks ago, filled Boylston Street with the same exhibitionistic ethos.  At least one participant in the Pantless T-Ride, Vlad Spivak, had also been involved in the Santa Speedo Run.  To him, the best part of the Pantless T-Ride is "Seeing the expressions on people's faces who had no idea what was going on."  The sight of these scandalized onlookers is, in his words, "priceless."

Spivak had been invited to participate via Facebook by his friend Julia McCandless. For McCandless, "not wearing pants" is itself the most appealing aspect of the event.  "Especially in the winter, when you're constantly wearing pants," she continues, "it's very liberating."  This is her first year as a participant and she had "a lot of fun."  She plans to participate next year and insists that, she "would have been doing it for years" had she only known about it.