You have to give credit to the guy in charge of marketing the thong. It’s a public relations miracle that women are still buying them. I don’t know who he is (I’m certain, though, that it’s a he) but I hope he’s sitting on an island somewhere being served an umbrella drink by a woman wearing one. He deserves it.
Isn’t it time thongs went off quietly into the whorish night? Don’t we baby boomers have enough to feel old about, without having to see the top strap of a thong every time a salesgirl bends over to find the flannel nightgowns in our size?
And don’t even tell me that you’re pro-thong because of the panty line argument. We proudly showed our panty lines for all the world to see for thousands of years, but suddenly about five years ago you wouldn’t be caught dead with panty lines? You’d rather wear a slingshot than to show evidence of a pair of Hanes for Her?
There are worse things than panty lines. I was in church once, sitting behind a woman who had a pair of beige dress pants of the clingy variety. I pay attention in church (I do), but when I’m listening I sometimes let my gaze drop down to what’s in front of me. What was in front of me was this woman’s behind in the beige pants and as I stared at it, I could see the little pockmarked, dimpled skin often found on the butt. At first I thought she had some kind of textured underwear on, but – no panty lines. She was either wearing no underwear or she was wearing a thong. End result was you could see the rippled skin of her behind. Needless to say, this was a huge distraction from the homily.
The thong marketing guy has convinced a lot of women that it’s better to see your bare butt than to see panty lines. He’s also making a strong case for thongs being sexy.
I read a women’s magazine columnist (although I can’t remember what magazine or why on earth I would be reading such a thing, but stranger things have happened at the grocery store check-out. I once leafed through a Spanish Soap Opera Digest and low and behold, Rauel and Consuela are having an affair!) and this columnist said something like, “Every woman should have a thong. If you have a man in your life, you’ve got to have a thong.” No qualifiers like “if you’re under 200 pounds” or “if you can see your toes” or “if you’re still letting the man in your life see you naked with the lights on” or “if you have the discipline to stop yourself from picking at your pants the whole time you’re wearing one.”
There’s a small window for thongs. Too young and it’s creepy. (Victoria’s Secret hasn’t started selling Hello Kitty thongs. Yet.) Too old and it’s creepier.
So if you’re 20-24 and built like a runway model, go ahead, knock yourself out. The rest of us should just be happy with our panty lines.