Third, apparently not only is thong underwear in — it’s out. Women — many of whom would not be wearing thongs were I the bureaucrat in charge of such things — seem to think that the world shuld know you’re wearing such a garment, so they wear very low-cut jeans and hike the “waistbands” high so you get full view of their anal floss. We were having lunch at Fortnum and Mason — a place where well-dressed grandmothers should take their granddaughters for proper tea or desert — and we saw one young lady showing more plumber butt than a fat guy looking for a lost screw in the back of the dishwasher.
I’m no prude, and I understand the complaints from Brits that they can’t be frozen in time for the entertainment of nostalgic Americans, but is it so unreasonable that to lament their mad rush to a cool Brittania defined by slattern-chic?