The other day, I contemplated wearing just underwear to walk around Tompkins Square Park. In downtown NYC, the locals have agreed upon a formulaic uniform of panties, teeny tees and sweet little ballet flats — a combination that had been heretofore reserved for toddlers and Edie Sedgwick — and I’d been curious about trying out the combo myself. 365partygirl-like.
“Underwear is day wear now,” designer Willy Chavarria tells PAPER. Apropos of the trend, Chavarria recently released DIRTY WILLY, a collection of distressed, piss-stained underwear. “Pushing the boundaries of our sexual instincts is where the excitement lies. This is the time to excite.”
Excitement often teeters on fear — that’s what makes it so thrilling — and being pantless in public is literally a nightmare scenario; undies bunch as they’re wont to do, sweat stains will seep and insecurities may take over. If you take short cuts like wearing bloomers with pockets in them or giant boxers that make your derriere droop like a sad paper bag, you may totally miss the mark and risk not feeling so Julia at all. Panties-as-pants is all about committing to the bit. Because if you’re going to choose scandalous sex appeal for a walk to the park, you need blind confidence.
Easier said than done but, as it turns out, audacity is in.
Brat summer has made it so that we can hold many truths at once. There’s space for introspection, critical thinking, and growth and fun, flirty frivolity. We’re in the middle of a shitstorm, after all, and everything feels a little topsy-turvy. What was once outright inappropriate is now yawn-inducing, hackney even, and things that are deeply fucked up are, seemingly, kind of funny. “It’s been a really funny summer. A lot of stupidity,” designer and internet troll Victor Barragan says over Whatsapp. “Maybe stupidity is sexy.”
Something about global political instability and a steaming trash pile of a planet really does make a society feel absurdly helpless and, as a result, sexy. “This summer felt good physically. So many people out in the streets half nude,” Chavarria confirms. “I love public nudity. It’s so liberating for all.” Which is so fair. Like, if anything goes, then everything can go, right? If Emmanuel Macron said he’d swim in the Seine once it was clean and then simply didn't follow through on that, can I stop doom-scrolling and just take my top off? The empire is crumbling, so let’s get hammered and kiss, yeah?
I’ve been thinking about this. I’ve also been thinking about Maison Margiela’s couture collection earlier this year and its employment of merkins. Last year, Miu Miu gave us permission to do panties-as-pants and it’s been a success, with Prada Group reporting a 93% increase in sales for the brand only in the first half of 2024. It makes me wonder if John Galliano’s pro-pube choices coinciding with this explosive moment in history have the potential to push those aforementioned styling boundaries even lower. Perhaps all this brattiness and broiling will make it so that the bush can (finally) see the light of day.
I called my friend, model and self-described kitchen witch, Chiquita. She’s got a great bush. And she’s been sporting it all summer long. “It’s definitely been the summer of the bush for me,” she said, “Especially because my favorite ‘kini is just a tiny little triangle, I’ve kind of just had to embrace it. I’m really hairy and I don’t want to go for a full wax every time I go to the beach.”
Not to state the obvious, but hair removal isn’t exactly convenient. Yet, mowing your mound goes as far back as the Roman empire, writer Jessica DeFino recently reported in her column “Ask Ugly.” Whacking your weeds was once a way to mitigate lice — something the aristocracy didn’t have to worry about since they had access to soap, hot baths and personal groomers. Today, DeFino writes, “The practice can also be part of the performance of class, cleanliness, femininity, youth, beach etiquette, yada yada yada.”
If this sassy, sleazy, sweat-slicked summer has been about anything, it’s been about questioning what we consider to be appropriate behavior. Empathy, solidarity and mutual respect? Yes. Making sure my hair meets a standard that only applies to women? Not so much. Perfect breeding grounds for the pubeaissance. (DeFino’s word, not mine.) But, all this tuft talk has been pretty contained. Bush is back in the bedroom, according to DeFino, and at the beach, as proved by Chiquita’s fabulous fur, but whether or not it can be sported somewhere nudity isn’t expected, like showing a little scruff at the club, remains the question. For Barragan, pubes in public are kinda cute.
“It takes so much courage to show pubic hair,” the designer says. Over the course of the summer, via his third IG account (@catching_stds_not_feelings), the J’ADORE UR HOLE-designer posted several photos in which he’s whipping his dick out in public. In them, he has a cheeky grin, like he’s being naughty, but not that naughty. “When I do it, it’s in a really playful, kid way. I’m not trying to be a pervert.”
Barragan’s embrace of his own shrubbery made me wonder if I, as a girl, could do the same. (Show a little pubic hair, that is.) We’re accustomed to boy bush — in fact, men’s happy trails are so acceptable, they’re an asset — but when was the last time a woman's weeds made a splash?
In 2003, Gucci by Tom Ford released a salacious ad featuring Carmen Kass and a male model kneeling before her, vis-a-V. Her pubes were shaved into the shape of a G, the Gucci logo at the time, and it was sensational. (Supreme put it on a t-shirt two years ago and sold it at a reasonable $40.) Earlier this year, Doja Cat lived up to her namesake by wearing a sheer head-turning Dilara Findikoglu number, kitty lightly veiled.
For London-based Puss Puss Magazine’s 19th issue, which came out in April of this year, designer Jenna Lyons was featured as one of several cover stars. Her story, titled “The Lyons’ Den,” was filled with imagery of models mixed with photos of the Real Housewives of New York newcomer, one of them featuring her in a calf-grazing Jacquemus coat, tabby cat in hand. The shots of Lyons look the same, power-stance and mid-part locked in, but there's a little something extra. If you flick too quickly, you might just miss it: Full frontal. Just peeking out from the lion’s den.
So, yeah, girl bush is being spotted on the red carpet and in cool magazines. Soon, I hope, it will be on the streets.
It’s crazy to think that one day everyone’s hair will be seen as sexy and playful, gender notwithstanding, but I’ve always envied boyishness and the ease it guarantees. Perhaps Chavarria is as delusional as I am when he says: “ I think pubic hair is personal. All hair is personal. If the hair (any hair) is presented well, it will always be well received.” This summer, precisely because of the politics and the pollution, certain things we used to drive ourselves crazy about — concealer, Sweetgreen, Instagram likes — haven’t crossed our minds as much. In the chaos, we’ve found release. My hedges are a little higher and my pant rises are rarely over eight inches. I think it’s really hot. Maybe it’s bratty to not shave, but I’m just living that life.
Photos courtesy of Willy Chavarria and Getty Images
