The Thong Song. Of sorts.

What are you wearing?

Yes, I do mean that inappropriately.

As I do nearly every seemingly innocuous comment that I make.

Ok, but for realz, guys. Under your pants ; what are you wearing???

If it starts with a T and ends with a G - and it isn't a kitchen utensil - we need to talk . Don't worry: you're not in trouble. I just want to clear a few things up.

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So, fashion is about comfort ...
right?

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Not physical comfort,
obviously- (see: every pair of shoes I own),
but a sense of comfort with your self. You feel me?
Being at ease inside, with who you are on the outside.
x

That being said, how many of you, at age 12, would have identified yourself as thong people?

You know what I'm talking about; the "others"lingering our sale bins & why some time did not get marked down (light AG "stevies" -- essentially, our youth.

Some things,

like basically everything about me ever,

never change.

Frankly, I'm still more comfortable with myself going commando than I am with myself in aforementioned floss.

But why?

Is it because I'm still uncomfortable referring to myself as a "woman"?

Or is it because there's something so seemingly vain about sacrificing my comfort in favor of a streamlined outward appearance?

Or maybe it's because I'm really fond of ripping off my pants upon home entry and spending all remaining hours indoors in only baggy tees without simultaneously contaminating every surface in said home?

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I'm not sure. But I am pretty sure that whatever deep-laden emotion is driving this discomfort is the very same which I have recently overcome in order to embrace red lipstick.

And maybe shaving too.