I…I just don’t get it.
I’m almost speechless.
I SAID “ALMOST.”
Is anyone modest with their physicality anymore?
Does anyone say “No” anymore when asked to do unclothed or ridiculous things in a public forum?
Does anyone see the value of not being publicly naked or not doing anything it takes to get on TV or just letting someone else have the spotlight for a Goddamned second for something that has to do with synapses rather than tomfoolery anymore?
I have rolled my eyes for many years at the buffoons on The Bachelor and The Bachelorette and The Real Housewives of Fuckeduppity.
I take deep, cleansing breaths and try not to have a heart attack over how really young, naturally talented singers sexify themselves up in order to get their vocal and songwriting gifts the attention they deserve.
But holy Chiclets on a biscuit, once I saw that brides are encouraging their bridesmaids to flash their asses in professional photographs on the wedding day as Grandma and all the little cousins prance around tossing rose petals while they wait for the cocktail hour to begin, I realized this world has finally gone and lost its damn mind.
Have you seen this yet?
*My brain just imploded while typing that.
Sure, in comparison to “kids these days,” I dress more conservatively than your average elderly Sicilian nun, but I’ve always had the mindset that if someone wanted to see my bits and pieces they needed to work for it. That meant they needed to do something along the lines of marry me or go through years of medical school and have office hours that meet my needs.
You don’t have to be as prudish as me, but isn’t it possible to keep something under wraps sometimes? Must we always go for the naughtiest, nakedest, most inappropriate angle—and do it all on film? Is everything a contest to see who can end up in a meme that’d horrify your grandad?
WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO TAKING PICTURES OF THE BRIDAL PARTY’S FACES?
I still have yet to curse in front of my mom–I can’t imagine letting her see me flash a photographer.
Will these girls be embarrassed one day to see what these ballsy brides requested them to do, and now have eternal photographic evidence of?
(Yes. The answer is a resounding yes.)
And speaking of balls, are dudes doing this, too? Where are the hairy hindquarters and taints? Is this an equal opportunity mortification for the future children of all bridal party members, or do only the fairer sex get to degrade themselves on this sacred day?
It bothers me so much that I have constant external battles to fight as a mother of a son and a daughter. They get so much bullshit from media and the grown-ups around them that I’m simply exhausted. Who taught my kid the word “sexy” when she was 5 years old? Sure as hezzle not me. But I’m the one who had to explain to her and her 7yo brother (at the time) what it meant and why they can’t use it.
I want my kids to respect themselves, their bodies, and other peoples’, too. But how the hell am I going to do this when it seems that everyone around us is dropping trou in an effort to get themselves attention?
“Hey, kids, don’t do what all the millions of other people are doing, even though it gets them pats of the back and makes them internet/television sensations.”
Why aren’t more people trying to get the good attention? You know, the kind you get with kind words, generous gestures, and clicks of working brains?
I see a time and place for sexuality and sexual expression, but the sweepingly blasé attitude about the value of our bodies and the consensus that it’s fine to do anything for attention is making my head hurt.
I’m just…I’m just so frustrated with it all.
Am I being too much of an old fogey here?
Does this stuff blow your mind like it does mine?
Do you expect me to yell “GET OFF MY LAWN!” any minute now, then pull up my slacks while taking a slug of Geritol?
I know these brides and bridal parties are full of fun 20-somethings who don’t have many cares in the world, and I’m an almost-40-something who has been trying to explain a crazy world to my kids for over 9 years. It’s exhausting. But I can’t get these ass pictures out of my head.
And Lord help me if my kids even think about doing this baloney at their weddings.
Believe me, you: There would be a very familiar size 10 footprint on each and every ass that turned to the camera that day, and I wouldn’t have a single regret about whoopin’ them all while in my modest Mother-of-the-Bride finery.