Can We Take Back the Camel Toe?

Imagine this: you’re walking down the street with your male counterpart and you’re both in leggings. You’ve either gone for a bike ride together, or maybe he really liked our collaboration with Outdoor Voices. Never mind the details, what’s important is that neither of you are wearing pants.

You’re stopped at a corner, waiting for the light to change while possibly drinking smoothies or maybe just standing akimbo.

From across the street, you see two individuals — one male, one female — neither clad in especially restrictive bottoms, and as you’re given the go to mosey forward, both individuals, now coming at you, shout in unison. The man commends his chromosomal comrade to your right by acknowledging his bulge, while the woman in this scene gives you a dirty face and says you should have left your camel toe at home.

Now, as far as you’re concerned, you and your counterpart, both wearing the same leggings, are quite literally walking the same road here. He’s conspicuously revealing his junk — the very appendage that facilitates the process of insemination and therefore childbirth while you, similarly, embrace the much needed, absent piece of that puzzle. Need I remind you, ostensibly a fellow woman, that it takes two disparate genitals to lay-go an eggo that gets a woman preggo, and yours is as valued, important and trusted as his is, gosh dangit. So why is it that when a man experiences bulge he is canonized as Hero among his lifting class, but when we, givers of life and takers of nothing, fall victim to the inevitability of vintage denim-fostered camel toe, we’re gross?

I hereby suggest that in addition to all the other shit we’ve spent the greater half of our foray into the aughts taking back (feminism, words like “bitch,” short skirts, nipples, bras) we consider the camel toe, too. Why? Because beauty only falls upon the eye of the beholder after the beholden has proclaimed it as such. Embrace your camel toe! Nurture it. Let it feel your resolute devotion to it as opposed to against it. Show it you care, believe you care and watch as the world begins fleeing to Morocco to figure out what shade of Essie red it is wearing.

Feature image by Hannah Kellner

The fupa can be a side effect of both mom and dad jeans. Did you happen to see this dude’s (graphically enhanced) lovely lady lumps? He’s officially been added to our Boys of Summer list. 

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