The 80s gave us camel-toe, the 90s; bum cleavage à la Alexander McQueen. Then came the noughties with diamanté thongs pulled way above a denim waistbands (I still don’t know how that was meant to be perceived).
Now, the trend du jour is: “your bottom is starving, feed it until there’s barely any fabric left”. On the one hand, its helping me lose my postpartum chub, by literally affecting my ability to keep food down (silver-linings). On the other, it’s having to avert my eyes from something I feel I shouldn’t really have to confront seeing. Especially in the cold meat section of the supermarket!
It’s gone beyond a trend, it is now a world-wide situation that really needs tackling. Once upon a time, one could visit open spaces without having to cover dear Granny’s eyes in case her pacemaker exploded at the sight of arse cheeks hanging out of a waistband and two pockets (if you’re lucky).
I’ll be called prudish by the liberal orthodox crowd. But I’m actually not prim at all. What with #slutwalk, #imwithher & #askhermore #girlboss, female empowerment movements are storming ahead and women are claiming their rights to wear what they want – no longer bound by the shackles of whalebone corsets (although I admit, I’m not a huge fan of the #burnyourbra movement, I like a little support myself), women are free in a way our ancestors could never have imagined.
This is not about freedom and women’s rights. No, this is a ramble from a thirty-something woman asking: When did elegance become null and void? When did it become normal to show everything off all at once. More mysteriously, how are young girls allowed out by their parents wearing these waistbands, let alone walking around WITH SAID PARENTS (*standing mouth open). Who are these people and how did they not just say no to their doe-eyed daughters?!?!
What’s with this disinclination towards modesty? I’m not talking about covering up from head to toe, though some women like to do this as it creates an air of mystique, but not having everything out on show certainly is more palatable. We live in a generation (now I sound old) of full-on sex , sex, sex – there’s so much sex that it has become desensitized to the point of being boringly normal. Where along the line was subtlety and suggestive allure lost? Now its in yer face, fierce and quite bloody scary, actually. Millions of Instagram selfies of scantily clad girls fuel the addiction for the Holy Grail of fame. This is what young girls aspire to? Arse-cheeks tilted to the camera in that ubiquitous bathroom selfie (*eye-roll). It is so boring. Yawnsville.
I’m all for women’s rights and girl power, but I’d really rather not read your lips (sorry) whilst I’m enjoying a nice cup of coffee with my weekend paper. Keep it for the beach. Here’s to covering up just a little bit more (and achieving a healthy balance of flesh to fabric).
All opinions are my own.