Editor’s note: This article was initially published in The Daily Gazette, Swarthmore’s online, daily newspaper founded in Fall 1996. As of Fall 2018, the DG has merged with The Phoenix. See the about page to read more about the DG.
I am currently a junior at Swarthmore College studying Economics. “Inside the Pussy” is a column about daily awkward sexual experiences and sexual encounters. Because I am far from a sexual goddess, many of these stories will detail my flops and failures in trying to find love, recover from love, and get it on. It will be updated on a weekly basis.
I did not wear thongs all throughout high school. They called me the master of panty lines (behind my back). I first considered sexy underwear when I made out with someone at my friend’s Sweet 16. I went to Victoria’s Secret, the PINK section, and chose a pair of panties that let my butt peek out just a little bit more than usual. However, I could never actually wear them, because they were much less comfortable than my own stretched out granny panties. I didn’t even consider thongs until I entered college my freshmen year.
Let’s move back to my Quaker Matchbox boyfriend: he really liked thongs. He liked thongs on girls. He liked thongs on boys. (One of the previous two sentences is untrue.) Whichever way, he was very into thongs. He was definitely less into my underwear being so loose it almost fell off my hips. Full disclosure: I was playing a tennis match once, and my underwear was so loose that it kept falling past my shorts. Thus, thanks to my boyfriend’s interest and my own curiosity, I decided to try purchasing a few new pairs of sexy panties.
I went to Victoria’s Secret again and boldly stepped past PINK into the “Adults” section. That was way too much for me, so I immediately stepped back into PINK and began my vigorous search for undies. I didn’t want to try them on due to the hygienic tape, but that really impeded my efforts to purchase them. In any event, I did not know how large my waist size was or how much bounce my butt had. Still, I would not give up in the face of this challenge. I settled on a small white-laced thong and a blue bow-tied thong.
I kept them in my drawer for many weeks. I started wearing the booty panties I had purchased in high school to acclimate myself to new undies and for the first time, they made me feel hot. Over time, I felt brave enough to try the thongs. At first, they were very uncomfortable—I felt this constant urge to pull the string out from in between my butt cheeks. This new foreign beast was much too close to my genitals.
However, my thong-acceptance happened without me even realizing it. Thongs are a lot like sex. Best case scenario: it happens when we are ready. I pulled those babies on one evening, wore them the entire day, and suddenly, this foreign beast did not seem foreign or beastly any longer.
I still encountered problems once in a while. Wet spots from quick wipes after the bathroom. A weird butt itch that could not be reached. But, thongs began to serve many purposes for me. They got rid of panty lines. My boyfriend thought they were hot. Most important of all, they made me feel sexy. I decided to continue wearing thongs for myself. Admittedly, I still have granny panty days, where I pull on some loose underwear from high school and eat a Chobani flip in the comfort of my bed. But it’s nice to pull on that pretty white lace and dance in my room, too.
Next week, I will discuss my struggles with going to a party and getting all up on it.
