I was sixteen when I quit wearing underpants. The desire to push the boundaries of my burgeoning sexuality, paired with the taunting of my equestrienne friends pertaining to the visible panty lines beneath my breeches, motivated me to empty my lady garments into the trash. A decade later, I’m still going strong, content to ride commando ’til the day I die.

“But Britt,” you might ask, “haven’t you ever heard of a thong?”

Yes, dear readers, I certainly have.

A little research on About.com revealed that “the thong first appeared in the 1939 World’s Fair. New York Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia ordered the city’s nude dancers to cover themselves and the thong was invented to just barely do the job. Fashion designer Rudi Gernreich has been credited with introducing the first thong bikini in 1974. Another reference states that thongs, originally called tangas, first hit the beaches of Brazil in 1977.”

Of course! It all makes sense! A MAN invented the mainstream thong. It is men, after all, who are prone to using the word “panties”, unaware that it has the effect of making most females cringe – it sounds so pedophilic. (“Remove your PANTIES, little girl.” Gross!) No self-respecting woman would create and subject her fellow ladies to such misogynistic torture. (Hmm…but on second thought…)

Back in the day when I DID wear drawers, my biggest annoyance was the way they never stay put. Somehow, they always inched inward until I had a full-blown Wedgie, and maybe even a Melvin, too. Why, oh WHY would anyone intentionally welcome an undergarment that was designed specifically to nestle itself up one’s ass?

In addition to the initial discomfort, there are some health dangers involved. The liner fabric can remain damp and breed germs, while the rear fabric basically creates a bridge for bacteria to travel from one orifice to another. In plain English, some of you don’t wipe your asses well enough and that sexy little g-string you insist on wearing to spin class creates a water slide straight to your punani. This can result in yeast infections, urinary tract infections, and other similarly disgusting afflictions that will prevent anyone in their right mind from wanting to put their mouth in and around your fungina.

In all my years of free-lippin’ it, I’ve never experienced anything but private perfection. And yeah, I’ve purchased a thong or two in recent years, but strictly for…um…boudoir purposes, i.e., there’s a matching bra, hooker heels, and maybe even a platinum blonde wig involved. Maybe.

So ladies, take it from a woman who knows: ditching your dainties will empower you. Stop flossing your anus, and don’t let anything come between you and your Calvins…or Diesels…or Sevens…or anything of the like. Freedom is scarier than captivity, but it’s time to be brave. Your vadge…and your unsuspecting date…will thank you.

[Originally published April 13, 2009]

• La Femme