That Th-Th-Th-Thong

When I was 14, I began the campaign to my mother to begin wearing thong underwear. I tried everything to convince her that all of my underwear needed to be replaced with thongs. I think a lot of it stemmed from the fact that I had just been allowed to wear makeup and wanted to push her further.

It would be cheaper! It would be more comfortable! No panty lines! (And believe me, with my mothers love for buying me polyester stretch pants, that last one was a big deal for me.)

I tried and tried but it was all in vain. She was not having it.

She felt that if I wanted sexy underwear, it was because I wanted to have sex.

So, she continued to buy cotton high-rise underwear. Because apparently, that alone would prohibit me from having sex.

The truth was, sex was not on my mind at all. I never admitted it out loud, but the real reason I wanted cuter underwear was because that was what the girls in the locker room at school wore cuter underwear. I was already chubbier than other girls, and had to wear glasses. Why did what I wore have to be a third strike against me?

The thinner, prettier girls at school knew they were pretty. They would preen and walk around, unlike me and my best fried who took turns changing into our gym clothes in the bathroom stall in the five minutes before class began.

I think I wanted that confidence. I wanted to look in the mirror and look sexy and feel good about the way I looked. It was not at all about sex, or attracting others. It was about feeling good about myself.

Looking back, I understand what my mother meant. I understood how she felt. I occasionally talk to kids in high school and raise my eyebrows and feel shocked about things that, looking back, weren't a big deal when I was that age.

I don't know if, when I am a grown up, and my fourteen year old asks to wear thong underwear, I will let her. I may react differently than my mother. I may ask her why she really wants it. I may even do what my mom would have considered unthinkable and ask my partner for their equal opinion and contribution to the decision.

Or, I may just say, "Why the hell do you need to feel sexy at 14? Hell no. You can wait until you move out."

Time will tell, I suppose.