I’m not one to follow trends.

Okay. That’s a lie. If Gwen Stefani’s doing it, I’mma try it at least once (i.e. red lipstick; literally once). But when it comes to fanny fashion, not so much. Especially if granny panties suddenly go en vogue like they seem to be doing, according to the magazines I shouldn’t be reading and Facebook shares on which I shouldn’t be clicking but totally am.

Mind you, I’m obviously of the opinion that everyone’s entitled to indulge their own muffin cover proclivities – but I also beseech any of you full coverage folk to ‘splain it to me like I’m seven. How do you survive 24 hour wedgie vexation? Is part of “feminism” self-flagellation? Then again, you might be saying the same to me, someone who’s been a devotee to the crevice thread style since my teen years. “How are thongs any better, Ash? How aren’t they worse?” While I’m not positive, I have an idea. I call it G String Theory. And it rests on my overall outlook to life about getting annoying but inevitable things overwith quickly: if a cord of fabric’s gonna be on a day long colonic spelunking mission anyway, might as well just put it there at the start and let it stay put.

Hey, maybe that’s why they came out with this opposite of a granny panty bikini bottom not long ago:

Anyone else feel like only a European chick can carry this off?

I mean, coverage wise, it literally is the same thing as a regular stringy bikini bottom – missing but a bit of hip draped dental floss at the top. Yet, when I see it, it makes me wanna add a ripcord those Bridget Jones drawz from above and exit out the nearest window. Why? Is it because it’s a snap bracelet for your snatch? That it looks half like a little girl’s headband and half like something Christian Grey’d employ on his submissive? If it had spikes on the side you cunt can’t see? Maybe it’s just that everyone has to imagine how horrible it smells since it’s basically cloth doing a shocker-lite on you while you sweat at the beach. We may never know. Maybe it’s one of those “walk a mile in another woman’s taco choker” things to find out. And since that sounds opposite of sanitary, for now, I think I’ll stick with a halfway happy medium betwixt clam clips and geriatric lingerie.

Until I see Gwen do either.