'I tried this year’s controversial bikini trend'
I'M not quite sure what compelled me to try a V-string bikini.
I guess sometimes, when you see something so ludicrous, so tiny, your curiosity implores you to check it out for yourself. Then wear it to the beach and review it for the entertainment for thousands of strangers. Naturally.
If you haven't seen the v-string bikini trend, let me explain: For some ungodly reason, Australian swimwear brands have modernised the G-string. The G-string, you see, is apparently unacceptably conservative and covers way too much.
Enter, the V-string bikini - something that will showcase every ingrown hair you've had since you were 17. Hooray!
It's tricky to find an Instagram model who isn't wearing a V-string in her latest mirror selfie, or an Aussie e-commerce store that isn't flogging them to their millennial customers.
It's 2019 and, if my social media feed is anything to go by, side boob is out - side vagina is in.
If you're inclined to purchase a V-string for yourself, you'll be delighted to know the "Heron" bikini from Beginning Boutique is just $39.95! A rather affordable price for glorified indecent exposure, yes?
Once you factor in the necessary 10 rounds of laser hair removal (about $450) and Barbie-inspired labiaplasty (about $5000), you'll be looking at about $5489.95 for the complete look.
That's provided you don't get stung for public nudity, which could be punishable by a fine of up to $2000. Totally worth it for the Instagram photo, though.
"Take it to the beach with a white or red bikini top for a sizzling summer look," the brand promises on their website.
So, that's exactly what I did. At Melbourne's iconic St Kilda beach.
I don't think I can stress how much preparation goes into wearing this thing. Without an elaborate hair removal plan, I would risk looking like Borat's sister. I just couldn't have that. And so, I spend 25 minutes in the shower, tending to my lady garden as if I was a brain surgeon, only with ever-so-slightly lower stakes.
Then, it was beach time.
At the beach, it immediately became clear that the rather important act of walking is precarious when one is donned in a V-string. Whenever I stretched one leg out in front of the other, the bikini kind of made a dash for my internal organs. It feels like … flossing. For your insides.
So I needed to shuffle, bit by bit, to move from my towel to the water, and then back again. I look like a penguin, or a woman filled with immense buyer's remorse.
Meanwhile, my internal dialogue sounded a lot like this: I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I hate. Oh, look, a cute dog! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. Ew, ew, ew, I hate this.
More than once I felt a breeze hit a place where breeze never belongs. More than once, the sensation of exposure compelled me to cover my nether regions with miscellaneous items, like a hairbrush, tiny remnants of my dignity, and a pair of sandals.
More than once, my mind wandered to my entirely naked buttocks. You see, this V-string goes up so high - basically to my clavicle - that any coverage misses the important spots. Instead, I redundantly ended up with a very small triangular patch of fabric covering my back, while my pasty bum was on full display to the beach. There were small children playing nearby. I resisted the urge to apologise to their parents.
For this reason, I wore a pair of sunglasses and a cap. Partially for sun safety, but mostly so I didn't bring shame upon my family.
As I prepared to go home it struck me that while I am participating in this frankly ludicrous Instagram trend, not a single other woman at the beach is in a V-string. All of their genitals are adequately covered. They clearly appreciate not having sand in their hoo-ha, which makes a lot of sense.
Too much sense, really.
I'm sorry, Mum, for putting this on the internet. I'm more sorry to my traumatised lady region, though.