Whenever I’ve been told before that I look like Sharon Stone, I think two things:
1.) 90’s version? Or now version?
and
2.) Is my chick biscuit covered?
Yes, it is nice, Sharon. But what’s not nice is when it throws an eye surprise party for everyone, like the infamous LiLo committing fanny arson while exiting a car and stepping straight onto the pages of the tabloids. I get it though; underoos are inconvenient. Even a nice light thong. Imprisoning, really. I mean, here it’s (presumably – in this hypothetical me-wearing-a-dress fantasy) summer, we’re all carefree and going wherever the wind blows, and I’ve gotta choose between a pubic iron lung of full genital drapery (non-thong? Never…) or a long T-bar of incarcerated crack cloth. No redeeming qualities, always panty line inducing, and – let’s face it – should you flash someone, the color and fabric almost draw more attention to your lady lair than nada at all. Unless, ya know, you’re a ginger.
It’s a cuntnundrum, truly.
I suppose we could all just go commando and keep our gams closed instead keeping our cooter clothed.
But who wants to do that?
Instead, I adopt the same philosophy that I do when something breaks in my house and I start joining in and breaking everything I own: dishware, fine china, my bones, the bones of the fanged clown who resides underneath my bed and comes out to see what all the ruckus is about… You get the gist. Go with the flow. Wu-wei and all that. So, if my sacral straitjacket is gonna look obvi and eff up my ensemble anyway – if it’s gonna be what’s flashed instead’a flesh – why not go all out? Why not tell the world- I’m watching you watching me… and so is this cat…?
(Is that Emma Watson? Is this a meme I missed? #forshame)
The most fantastic thing about these gato undergarments is that they’re so take-you-by-surprise hilarious that even if you don’t catch a goggle goblin sneaking a peak, inevitably you’re gonna hear ’em laugh. Or at least witness the shit eating grin once your gazes meet again. The only thing they need to do is add a whole line, maybe dub it Peek-a-beaver or someth, and add all sortsa fun faces – Ghandi, Jesus, Pennywise (yes- cousin to the guy in a full body cast squatting under my slumber furniture). This idea’s so great that I might actually be inspired to start donning chones again this summer.
Boom.
Two Emma’s. Two Stones. One blog.
#SheOnOneT’day!