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The Rant | Why Bum Cleavage Has To Stop

The Rant | Why Bum Cleavage Has To Stop

Through the dusty haze of this unexpected heat wave, a deeply troubling sight keeps emerging.

It leaps out at you on crowded high streets, music festivals or anywhere the young congregate: two moist crescents of flesh, like wedges of Port Salut cowering in the sun, squeezed beneath a denim hem high as an incredulous eyebrow.

We’re talking, of course, about ‘bum cleavage’, the latest gruesome sign we’re hurtling towards a dystopia in which everyone is nude all of the time and nothing at all is left to the imagination.

When did this trend for having half your bum hanging out begin? And who do we blame? Rihanna and her hot pants? A tabloid media in which breasts have been dissected and divvied up - side boob, under-boob, nipple slip, etc., etc. - to a point they are no longer risqué enough for the young to care about? Pressure from this generation of impetuous, porn-ified males we’re supposedly raising?

Who knows. But it reminds me of that ‘thing’ that become fashionable among teenage boys a few years ago to wear your trousers half way down your thighs so all the world and its dog can see your underwear and, presumably, know you have an arse (or some pimply half-version of one at least).

The only sensible adult response to that was a desire to smack them over the head, yank up their belt and tell them to dress properly – no one wants to see your scruffy ‘designer’ boxers winking at them up an escalator, thanks very much.

With bum cleavage it’s the same. You want to say: listen, the human backside has looked perfectly fantastic while fully covered for hundreds of years now. Buy some bigger shorts.

Perhaps I’m being prudish. No doubt the same was said of mini skirts and hot pants and - before that - legs in general, when a mere slither of ankle was deemed dangerously provocative.

But – and this really is the clarion call of the old and boring – where do we draw the line? I think nature did it for us: it’s there, at the top of our thighs.

This is tricky territory for men. It is not, of course, for us to try and tell women how to dress. But to my untrained eye, this doesn’t seem to be a look endorsed by many empowered, savvy women, but girls who haven’t learned yet that quantity of flesh does not equate to sexiness, no doubt cheered on by boys who haven’t learned the same.

Think of the children, that’s what I say. And of my summer, which doesn’t need any more pasty flesh thrown at it thanks very much.


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Why we need to slow the fuck down