Nicola Alpe: Why 2020 is the year the G-string died

"Can we stop pretending that thongs are comfortable and channel our inner Bridget Jones?" Photo / Getty Images

A couple of weeks back, a friend of a friend was on the front page of Buzzfeed. Above the other pop culture and soft news that Buzzfeed serves up, was a piece about a woman admitted to the emergency room thanks to an infection caused by her thong.

For those of you not in the know, Americans word for a G-string is a thong. To be even more clear, I'm talking about underwear, not a guitar string.

One morning as she slipped her lacy thong on, she sustained a microscopic cut to her tochus, which over time caused her more and more pain. After an inspection from her mum, she was dispatched to hospital where she was incised, drained and admitted, ensuring she avoided blood poisoning. All from a tiny cut on her butt.

Upon first reading this I laughed, then I started thinking thongs. I believe thongs have a time and place; namely in my wardrobe for working out. As if I don't have enough to contend with by making sure my Lululemons aren't transparent when stretched tight across my behind, worrying about big chunks of cheek escaping and forming the dreaded double bum is too much.

Let's face it, gone are the days that we women are gadding about in jeans so low slung a Brazilian wax is a necessity.

Show me a woman who doesn't have at least one pair of high-waisted pants in her wardrobe and I will consider going out and buying her a pair, just so she can start living in relative comfort.

We all know that drawing attention to the slimmest part of the body is the most flattering, so why we got about with those low-slung pants and jeans, focusing the eye on the hips and rump, well it's just madness.

Sure, the thong was necessary when our fly consisted of only one or two buttons, but now we are thick into high-waisted fashion, can we stop pretending that the lacy thong is comfortable and channel our inner Bridget Jones and embrace the granny panty?

We don't need to go so far as to only wear big beige knickers or those post-partum mesh numbers, but I have phased out anything uncomfortable or microscopic and my bottom feels respected. Nowadays there is no longer any reason why my knickers need to finish inches below my waistband.

I recall seeing a picture of Jessica Simpson and thinking how good she looked. I'm a fan of 70s style, so her singlet, leopard belt and high-waisted jeans looked hot with her big blonde waves.

I read this year she was so shamed for that look, for wearing Mom-jeans, that she was compelled to write about it in her memoir some 10 years later. Where are all those haters now? Have they embraced the high waist or are they fiddling with their low jeans and thongs?

In a somewhat ironic turn, I am all about flashing the behind on the beach. At first reluctant, I would now be the only person on Venice Beach in a full bikini brief, that is if I owned one. Maybe I'm desensitised to it because of my surrounds, but my lily-white cheeks are ready for another summer of bum flashing as I make my way down to the water.

It may require a more studious application of sunblock, but in a weird twist somehow a high-cut bottom looks better. It's very undies undies undies togs, a little bit South American and a little bit European, but I think it looks cute and provided they are high waisted, I'm unapologetically in them.