Last night Josh, Ryan, and I were roaming around Fremont and I dragged them into a fancy schmantsy boutique so I could try on $168 jeans that were discounted 50%. While I tried on my umpteenth pair, I realized I had released two bulls in a china shop. When I immerged from the dressing room unsuccessful, Ryan stuffed a pair of silicon breast inserts under his shirt and made me feel him up. What I hadn’t known was that Josh had been sweetly convinced by the cashier that he simply must buy me a pair of Hanky Panky panties because they were “the best panties in the whole world.” So for an impressive $18, Josh laid out the dough for a pair of these famous panties, and surprised me with them on the way back to the car. Here’s a pic of someone else wearing them:
After putting them on, I noticed the high quality, the craftsmanship, and the nice pink color. Than I realized something: They’re still a thong. Despite ten solid years of trying, I have yet to find a thong I really, truly, like. The Hanky Panky pair is fairly close, most likely due to the fabulous fabric that demands for hand-washing only. (C’mon, what the hell? Who handwashes their underwear, seriously). But despite fabric, brand, and cost I have still found that a thong is a thong is a thong.
When I was dancing for Dropout Dance, many years ago, there was a girl in the company who swore her ass was meant for thongs. All her life she had struggled with bunching-in-a-wad panties and it wasn’t until she discovered thongs that her life radically changed for the better. She claimed it was due to her relatively flat ass. It got me to thinking: What kind of ass is totally unsuited for thong wearing? Is it really about the cut or style? Are some people (like me) just not meant to find them comfortable? Throughout the years I’ve had many conversations with women as thongs continue to be on the rise. As pants get lower and lower we are now treated to absolute stranger’s thongs peaking out. I remember as a youngster associating thongs with being trashy, a real Frederick’s of Hollywood thing, something only bad girls wore. Now, I bet even Laura Bush wears thongs under her sensible black slacks.
And so, I decided to review and assess all the thongs I’ve worn. All the failures and feedback and money spent on finding The Perfect Thong. According to some women, once they find it, their lives are changed forever.
My First Thong was a high cut, cotton, Victoria’s Secret thong. This was before all the low-rise, v-string, nonsense that Vickie’s is touting now. I think I bought it in college under a recommendation from a friend: V.C. makes the best thongs. Years later I realize that this is not true. In fact, I’m not quite sure what the allure of Victoria Secret truly is. After spending the past several years in clothing retail I have come to the opinion that their products are poorly constructed but well marketed. Their bras lose their stretch and start creeping up your back only after a few times wearing them. They are too expensive for what you get. They have beautiful, well-constructed, stores designed to drag you in off the Mall Streets and inside.
That being said, the only underwear I wear on a regular basis is their cotton, bikini brief. But forget Victoria Secret’s bullshit seamless line of panties, that crap is deceptive. The sizing is terrible, I bought a medium and the ‘seamless’ waistband cuts right into my spare tire. Speaking of, this is exactly why My First Thong didn’t work–practically cuts me in half that thong does. I never wear it.
Everyone will tell you that you have to spend really good money to get a comfortable thong. Well, I didn’t have very much money so it was interesting to have an individual tell me: “No, no, the CHEAPER the thong the better it is.” I took this advice because at the time I wanted to be sexy on a low budget. I went to Hot Topic, with my sister, who was horrified when I picked out several trashy thongs (one of them bright yellow) in a vain attempt to fit in with the rising thong trend. The above example is about four bucks, straight from the Hot Topic website, and is hands down my favorite cheap thong on the site. I don’t own this Napolean Dynamite inspired thong, sadly, but it’s a good case in point of a total waste of money. Granted, the string aspect decreases the amount of pressing into the hip and butt fat which consequently shows through clothing–but in NO WAY was a cheap thong more comfortable. I think I may have bought a large which was still too small and there is nuthin’ worse than a cheap, string, thong that doesn’t even fit your ass.
OK, I made one last attempt at the Cheap Thong Theory. When I lived up in the Colorado mountains we were so starved for excitement that we perused the local Wal-Mart in Frisco. Sure, we had a movie theater up there and an outlet mall, but Wal-Mart was THE place to hang out on a Friday night. I decided to make one last attempt and picked out a double string thong. The above photo is way racier than what I actually bought but it’s the closest I could find to what a double string thong looks like. I was under the impression that this design would somehow be more comfortable. I picked out a fantastic little blue and purple striped number for 3.99 and raised quite a stir at the Wal-Mart check-out. This thong was probably the closest to bearable I had experienced at the time. I wore it a few times, noticing that the two strings end up meshing into one eventually. There is nothing redeeming about the design, other than it probably looks kinda trashy and cool. However, I think this poor Wal-Mart thong is balled up in my drawer somewhere collecting dust.
Years later I finally succumbed to the truth: The more you spend on a thong the more comfortable it is. For expert thong-wearers it probably doesn’t apply, any old thing can go up your butt. But for women sensitive to chaffing, there comes a time when you have to invest a little money to find out if you can truly find one that will work. I was starting to feel a little desperate; with age I have slowly become adverse to panty lines. This is a result of hanging out in dance communities where the mere sight of a panty line under cotton lycra is enough to make grown women want to barf. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard: “Omigod, panty lines on stage are my biggest pet peeve.” I’ve taken classes where all of a sudden I become vastly aware that everyone around is wearing thongs hence no panty lines through their expensive, cotton, capris…and I am wearing old fashion briefs. The anti-panty line craze has gotten so extreme that dancers are now requesting thong leotards to wear under their dance clothes–THONG LEOTARDS, people. I can’t tell you how that makes me shutter. I was starting to feel the pressure, not only in the dance community but I had bought a few pairs of pants where panty lines were simply unavoidable.
So, I went to this nice little French lingerie boutique in Fort Collins under the recommendation of my punk rock hair dresser. (Surely, they’d have a thong for a girl like me!) They recommended the above Mary Green stretch lace thong, 15 bucks, hand wash cold only. I invested, took it home, expecting a miracle. (”See how soft the thong part is?” The sales girl said). I really thought I would put it on and not a feel a thing. Like a simple pair of briefs, or a practical pair of boy-cut panties, the “expensive thong” would not be distracting in any way. I was wrong.
True, this thong was way softer than any little number before it…but it was still a thong. And it was still rigid and uncomfortable. And than I did the unthinkable: I washed it…accidentally. The lace curled up around the edges and the skinny part curled and twirled. It might have been a thong I could have gotten used to, but now I just look at it sadly.
Taking pity on my thong problems, Josh thoughtfully bought me the above undies from Victoria Secret several years ago on Valentine’s Day. They look the same in the back as in the front. “OK,” I thought. “So the theory is they go partially up the rear…that might be better than all the way.” I was horribly wrong and the panties were really deceptive. Of course they didn’t stay partially anywhere, and there is nothing worse than admitting what your panties are doing: Giving you a big wedgie.
Two years ago I hit thong gold: Free Capezio thongs from my dance store that had long been discontinued. I had already been primed to try the dance industry’s idea of a thong, after all it wasn’t until I started hanging around dancers did I truly see thongs as a necessity. As you can see in the above picture they are high cut, which I think lent to their demise. (The new Capezio thongs are low-rise and completely sheer, a teeny-tiny maze of lines and crisscrosses barely sewn together to create a flawless look beneath a costume). I have no real issues with the old design. Probably because I harvested four free pairs and didn’t feel outraged at the money spent once I realized they still felt weird. They’re made of supplex, which is much nicer and shinier than cotton or nylon. As a long-waisted woman, the high cut design actually makes more sense for me, and the thong doesn’t hit the spare tire around the hips. When I have to wear a thong I reach for my discontinued Capezio’s.
The bottom line is this: nothing replaces the good clean look of a thong…but a fair substitute is a really great pair of seamless panties. The above picture is from the fabulous bare essentials line from Felina. Sure, they’re cheating, a little bit, but I have come to admit to myself: I just can’t take a full day of thongdom. Bring on the seamless panties!
Just a few blocks east of our home we discovered the secret 34th ave strip. It’s filled with quaint little shops, including the illustrious St. Clouds, (our ‘Saint Clowns’ as the boys nicknamed it), a brewery (yes!), and the totally witty, completely fabulous, 
