Trish at Second Cherry has a snippet on thongs, leading to advice on which way round to wear them. If you have ever been in any doubt, explanation here: Thongs.

They’re topical at the moment - the Daily Mail reported yesterday that “the bottom had fallen out” of the G-string market, in favour of boy shorts. Well, thank Golly Gosh for that.

The first time I knew that women other than footballers’ girlfriends wore these stupid things was when one of my oldest friends, a very large lady who wears tweed skirts and sensible shoes, told me that she just loved the thong. I thought she was talking about flip-flops; but no. Didn’t she find them uncomfortable, I wondered? Didn’t they well, migrate? Not at all. Absolute bliss, she assured me. “You don’t know you’re wearing them,” (which rather made me wonder what the point was as they are obviously not worn for reasons of hygiene.) This conversation left me feeling rather frumpy in my mini-Sloggis, so dutifully I bought a thong, £10.00 for 8 sq. inches of fabric and a couple of feet of elastic. I wore it once, and spent all day trying, increasingly desperately and increasingly indiscreetly, to extract it from between my buttocks. It reminded me of trying to clamber over a wire fence and getting stuck straddling it.

Anyway, according to the Daily Mail article, we can now wear big knickers with a clear conscience.

Strangely, the Mail’s latest article is simply a rehash of one published in 2005, in the same newspaper, by another journalist. Both articles start with the line: “At the height of their popularity they accounted for a third of the underwear….” and quote Penny Lancaster, Elle Macpherson, the Beckhams. So maybe it isn’t true. Maybe it’s just a case of a journalist being stuck for an idea for copy and borrowing somebody else’s. Maybe thongs will endure.

But, no matter what, I prefer to spend the day in a comfortable saddle rather than straddling a fence.

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