I should have known that my thongs would not go over as well in Utah as they do in Santa Cruz. Some light bulb should have gone off in my head. These are the people who wear bloomers and undershirts for goodness sakes. Thongs are not part of their daily regime.
I, as you all know, am a wearer of thongs. I like them. I don’t find them uncomfortable. They do not give me the wedgie that so many complain about. And they also don’t give me the panty lines that are so prevalent under the polyester stretch pants worn by so many women to Target.
Yesterday we went to Seven Peaks for the day. Seven Peaks is a water park. It’s quite the attraction here in the high desert. Water slides, wave pools, fake beaches. The works. And not a thong to be seen! Why? Because right at the entrance is a huge sign, we’re talking HUGE sign, that says, ABSOLUTELY NO THONGS! No thongs? What on earth?
Now you all know me well enough to know that this didn’t sit well with me. I was wearing my thong. I remarked out loud, “What am I supposed to do? Wear my dress so no one sees my thong?” to my mother. “Thong?,” she said. “Jennifer, why are you wearing a thong?” “Because it’s comfortable. Because I like it. Because Dave didn’t wear this one to work today!” “Dave, what does Dave have to do with your…Jennifer, why didn’t you just wear a plain old bathing suit like everyone else?” “Mom, this is my bathing suit!” “Good grief. Well, you can’t wear it. They won’t allow it. You need to be more modest. Who raised you anyway?”
And here, my friends, we get to the real question indeed. Who did raise me? Or who raised these other people I was with? Here in Mormon country, thongs are illegal. Because they’re not modest. You need to be modest. You need to cover up. Can’t go showing more than you should to those who shouldn’t be seeing it. And the rest of my family subscribes to this belief! They’re all covered up! They don’t even wear sleeveless tops. I am walking through this life bare naked and my family is chasing after me with a towel trying to cover me! How did this happen?
It wasn’t always this way. I know it wasn’t. I remember when I was younger that all three of us were encouraged to be naked whenever we wanted to be. We had a swimming pool when we were growing up and we never had to wear a bathing suit. Never. I never had tan lines. I was always just one lovely solid brown. Because I didn’t have to wear a suit. My own two sisters who were raised with me and also never wore a bathing suit are now telling me to put on respectable clothing and be more modest? When I reminded them of our childhood they told me that was in our hippy days and no one lives like that anymore. And besides, we couldn’t afford bathing suits back then so it just made sense for Mom to let us swim naked. Bullshit is what I had to say to that. I was told to watch my language.
I really can’t figure this all out. I really do wonder. How did it happen that I ended up NakedJen and my sisters ended up the Modesty Police serving deviled eggs and cakes made from a box? I’ll never figure it out. First the mayo and now the thongs.
I love my family. I do. I promise. They are good people. Just don’t ask them to wear a thong or bake you a cake and everything will be fine.
