Those who know me know I’m all for women of all shapes and sizes being proud of and flaunting their curves.

The thick girls on South Beach who strut their scantily cladded jiggly bits? Go on’ wit yo bad self. The round-the-way-girls poured into skinny jeans so tight the pants look painted on? Hey, more power to you. But I think I found my line in the sand.

It came at my son’s swim class.

This is actually Logan when he was 10 months old. There's no way I was putting a G stringed lady on my blog.

This is actually Logan when he was 10 months old. There’s no way I was putting
a G string on my blog.


It was the first day of class and we were running uncharacteristically early. We walked into the ladies locker room, peeled off our clothing to the layer of bathing suits that were underneath. I glanced up to look for the showers when I was greeted by an olive ass. Really. A sun-kissed but distinctly olive butt cheek.

Now you might not think this, but when it comes to nudity in public places I’m a prude. In high school gym, I still changed in the bathroom. As an adult, I never shower in my gym. I love naked bodies on TV, in pictures or even on stage. But generally not regular naked bodies near me. Again, American prude.

So though I winced at her bare cheeks that sandwiched her G-string, I told myself to buck up and just deal, this woman was simply in the middle of getting dressed after her swim. Stop being such a Pollyanna.

Ethan and I hopped in the shower and giddily headed to the pool. It was a big class with about 15 other parents. (And at least a third of them were guys, which struck me as odd since in Chicago there was rarely another dad in such a class and when there was a dad, the mom was always present too.)

While in the midst of a rousing rendition of the Hokey Pokey, I was turning myself around and caught a glimpse of something familiar. It was the same bare, olive buttocks I saw in the locker room.

The mom next to me was sporting a G-string bikini. In class. Just booty. All out. In the class with the babies.

At that moment, I completely forgot how to do the Hokey Pokey. All I could see were these bare cheeks turning themselves around and that’s what it was all about.

I finally stopped staring at her ass and we finished out the class without much fanfare. Once I got home, I did what any other normal person would do in such a situation. I hopped on Facebook to give a status update:

Ethan and I went to our first swim class today. One mom was there in a G-string. I mean, really.

And I loved the responses. My girlfriends tried to make sense of the situation:

Was it an outdoor pool? Maybe she thought she could kill two birds with one stone — get a tan and help her child learn how to swim.

At least it was a mom and not a dad. See? There IS a silver lining.

Epic Mommy fail. It’s swim class, not the club.

Whereas my guy friends were more than intrigued by the G-stringed mama.

I don’t see the problem.

So your husband will be doing swim lessons moving forward??

Is enrollment still open?

Where’s a photo?

What I didn’t have the heart to tell the guys was that, though bare this buttocks was, it wasn’t a buttocks you’d want to see bare. It was dimply and so flat it was saggy. It was a real woman, a mother’s ass.

Not a Heidi Klum bum, but a I’ve-birthed-a-baby-and-don’t-have-energy-to-go-to-the-gym ass.

Two days later, it was time to return to swim class. I admit, I was curious if she’d wear her G-string again. We arrived early again and no ass. We got in the pool. No ass. Then all the parents created a big circle to sing Wheels on the Bus. When it came time for the windows on the bus to go up and down, I realized the cute squealing baby next to me belonged to Ms. G-String.

Naturally I glanced down to see if she was flossing the dental floss. Alas no, it was a skimpy bikini bottom. Instead of seeing her full cheek, she was just gracing the class with about a quarter of each cheek.

(Can you believe I’m going into so much detail about a woman’s derriere? Me neither.)

Anyway, we talked for a bit and she’s very, very nice. I’m just glad that I now can recognize her by her face because I want to chat it up with her at the next swim class.

And let’s be honest, a woman who is so scantily clad at your kids’ swim class clearly has interesting stories to tell.



A G-String Diva At My Son’s Swim Class — 9 Comments

  1. I’m glad she turned out to be nice. However, the g-string at a swim class for kids is a bit much, Heidi Klum butt or not. Beware of invites to any water theme parties from her in the future.

  2. Nice piece and use of “line in the sand” and “fanfare.” Your neighbors may be seeing the same thing about wine soaked appearances on your deck.

    • 🙂 Glad you liked the post, it was a fun one to write. Not to mention getting to pick some of the gems that my guys pals shared. This post got a good reaction, makes me want to try to share more of the funny/oddball things that happen to me. We’ll see.

  3. Two cents worth. Maybe three. While I wouldn’t want my woman/mate going to a childrens swim class wearing floss, you have to admit it’s ballsy, pun intended. Seems to me the class went on as intended and the only people that noticed were parents. So… Is it more about the kids or the parents being slightly uncomfortable? I see some benefit for the kids. And for the parents. Put it this way, when my son was in 4th or 5th grade I started this silly little game. Can you say penis without laughing? I didn’t want him uncomfortable with body parts. I think you know where I’m going with that. As far as parents go? She didn’t have a great American Beauty Ass, yet she still showed it. I think she showed that she isn’t an exhibitionist by wearing something normal the next week. Unless she only has one box of floss that is.

    • LOL, well, I think it’s more than two or three cents. It’s quite possibly a full five cents much like Lucy charged for her good advice. 😉 Anyway, you’re right it’s totally ballsy to do that. I think yes, the parents were the ones, well let me say *this* parent was uncomfortable. We talk a lot about penises, boobs and vaginas in our house without laughter in that, like you, I think it’s important for kids to be able to talk about these things. (My husband and I in fact recently got into a conversation about whether we should call them balls or scrotum. I voted for scrotum since we don’t say “weenie” or “hoo haa” or other nicknames. He just kept wincing every time I said “scrotum.” I was very amused and now use the word a lot. Scrotum.)

      However I do know some families aren’t ready for these kinds of conversations when the kids are as young as mine and that’s fine. Each family has to choose its own path, on its own time frame. While this ballsy (or should I say scrotumy?) woman is a free spirit, and good for her, but there’s moms in the class that aren’t ready for their 3 year olds to see some woman walking around with her booty hanging out.

      Personally it just seemed like a really odd contrast to have the Hokey Pokey and Wheels on the bus with a G-string.

      Also, nice use of the term “box of dental floss.” Thanks for your thoughtful comment, it means a lot. 🙂

  4. Pingback: My First Real Hike in Portland | She's Write

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *