So you think no man should ever be caught dead wearing a Speedo? Maybe you’re right. But ladies, how many bathing suits do you have tucked away in drawers and spread haphazardly around your walk-in closet? Fellas, would any of you disavow these ladies of their culturally adopted right to publically strut—minimally clothed—near any body of water?
A beautiful day at the beach, mid-80s with a gentle breeze. Large puffy clouds dot the vast blue sky, intermittently casting shade across the thousands of weekenders enjoying the warm sun and salty water. The moments of reprieve from the glaring sun are a godsend to the women sweating through government-mandated beachwear. Black, ankle-length yoga pants absorb the sun’s harsh rays. Sweat pools under the rayon fabric, the breeze blocked from its evaporative cooling. Tops consist of ¾-length or greater sleeves and necklines high enough to prevent even the slightest hint of cleavage. They stick to shoulders and backs, constantly pinched from between breasts by fingers desperate to fan away heat. The rapidity of her pulsating neckline mimics the increase in heart rate of a young man meandering near the shoreline, staring at her secretly through tinted-sunglasses, clad only in his Banana Hammock.
Sounds like a typical day at the beach, right? No!
Ladies are out and about in all manners of undress. Clothes they wouldn’t dare wear if a large body of water weren’t near, allowing at least the façade of intent to eventually swim. Overweight, average weight, cachectic. The young, the old, some still considered by legal definition to be young but appearing old enough by visual ID. The majority of women take the opportunity given to them to wear out in public, what amounts to little more (and often much less) than underwear.
These are the same ladies that would never think of skipping the changing room to take off their T-shirt in the middle of Old Navy to try on that deeply discounted Floral-Print Scalloped-Edge Cami, even though there’s a mirror only steps away. She would never pull off one skirt to slip on another at the rack in a J. Crew, even though her granny-panties cover more of her derriere and stomach than any of the dozen bathing suit bottoms she wore last summer. Situations like these may occur regularly in Boardwalk shops along the coasts, but virtually never at a Kohl’s in Tennessee.
There’s just something about the proximity to water. Water constantly allows the possibility for a swim. And a spontaneous swim requires a swim suit be ever at the ready—no time for it to be merely hidden under traditional clothing, removed piece by piece as she runs toward the beaconing ocean. Clothing spread wildly along the beach like passionate lovers finding their way eventually to the bedroom. Our culture allows women to spend the day clothed only in underwear-esque coverings so long as there is the scent of saltwater in the air, or a pool within reasonable accessibility.
The same concession is not made for the male gender, however . . . at least not in the States. European beaches are filled with men in Cock Socks, some seemingly naked from a frontal view, bellies hanging down and obscuring their Sausage Sling. But, no, not on the beaches or poolside in America. While not completely denigrated here, culture mandates a bathing suit on an XY member of society need be nearer in size to athletic shorts than even boxer briefs. The ratio of His:Hers bathing suit material is in the realm of 2:1. This despite the ratio of His:Hers surface area to be covered is more along the lines of 1:2 (great variance, of course, dictated mostly by mammary size for her, and blood flow for him).
Why should men be so limited, our bodies shamed by a culture forcing us to cover up? Men need to stand up for equality in this regard. So much time and attention is rightfully given to the fight for gender equality along the lines of equal opportunities, equal pay, equality in general. Once again, rightfully so! But should gentlemen not be afforded the equality of comfort, of bodily expression, of tan upper thighs (when rid of coarse body hair)? As winter melts into spring, and tiny bathing suits appear at Target and PacSun, should men not join women in worrying about the winter weight we carry?
Shouldn’t men worry about the size of the package wrapped snuggly inside their Bratwurst Bath Cap? (Should I stuff something in there to make it look bigger? What if it falls out? What if things get . . . exited? Will people stare, thinking I’m stuffing when I’m really blessed with 99th percentile endowment?) Perhaps this is what equality looks like on pool decks, lakefronts, and ocean beaches.
Regardless of what the majority of a culture decide about any topic, there will always be outliers to their way of thinking. Guys who do wear the equivalent of colorful tighty-whities for their swim attire fall into 1 of 3 categories, by my assessment:
- They have the 6-pack abs needed to pull it off.
- They still can’t figure out how they lost that drunken bar bet last night.
- They simply don’t give a shit what anyone thinks.
The confidence, machismo, or indifference of that 3rd group of men will easily supersede any cultural stigma; they will wear their Brazilian Ball Bag, regardless. And shouldn’t more of us—men and women—care a bit less about what others think of them, and a whole lot more about what makes them feel comfortable? Strap on your Nut Huts, boys!
So, you still think no man should ever wear a Speedo? The average fella appreciates the expanded “bathing suit area,” and the physical and emotional protection of his knee-length board shorts. The field of Sociology has determined that when only 10% of the population changes their behavior, it often precipitates a rapid, snowball-like cultural shift. Imagine what cruel and unusual punishment would result if we hit a double-digit percentage of men donning Scrote Totes. I’m not a fan of beaches in general, so this wouldn’t much affect me. But as a culture, we can’t risk it. So, I guess, yeah, come to think of it . . . You’re Probably Right.
[034] March 3, 2021