Cracking Up

Ever since God invented female comedians (and some say Eve was the first), women have been getting huge chuckles at men's expense over the phenomenon commonly known as "plumber's crack". This is the apparently natural law that states that any tradesman (especially plumbers and electricians) will inevitably expose the upper portions of their backside (and, in particular, the "crack" by which their "cheeks" are divided) whenever they bend over - such exposure usually occurring in the immediate vicinity of a woman, who is thereby justified in subsequently relating the experience of her exposure to masculine slobishness to all her girlfriends (accompanied, of course, by the requisite scornful sarcasm and sense of existential superiority).

This phenomenon, however, has developed a life of its own and extended its scope beyond tradesblokes to men in general - especially men of a particular girth who vainly or foolishly try to convince themselves they are still capable of wearing pants in their teenage size range, and who thus invariably expose more of themselves than the rest of the population cares to see. It's sad, I know, and painful to view: if some dude has to have a mid life crisis, why can't he get a comb-over or buy a Harley? Why does he have to parade in skin tight jeans, exposing all and sundry to the back of his front every time he bends down to tie his shoelaces?

And so it gives me no pleasure at all to tell you that women are well and truly in on the act. No doubt, many of you are already aware of this, but I can convey the news from a unique perspective: that of the petrol station console operator. Not only do we get to see more "plumbette's crack" than is good for us, we get to see it in its particular and varied species. Ever since Brittany Spears started poncing about in "hipster" jeans singing thinly disguised songs about sex while pretending she was still an annoyingly cute and innocent Mouseketeer (and really, did any of us believe that for a microsecond?), hordes of women and teenage girls have been brainlessly copying her bad taste and traumatising the general population as a result. And trust me, they come in all sorts, to wit:

The fashion tragic. These come in two sorts: the big (or even just average) sized girl who refuses to believe she looks bad wearing hipster jeans; and the masochists, the ones who are clearly in a good deal of physical pain from wearing tight-fitting pants, but who would be in even greater mental anguish if they thought for a minute they might wear something comfortable but unfashionable (or apparently "unsexy"). The former usually compound their error by wearing one of those body-hugging tops that only just manages to cover their midriff, leaving you wondering if the folks at Life. Be In It managed to clone a twin sister out of Norm's excess body fat. The latter usually have the fixed smile and glazed eyes of a person whom you just know is frantically telling herself I'm in pain but it's okay; I'm in pain but it's okay; I'm in pain but it's okay and who, in her more self-aware moments, is beginning to wonder why she's getting abdominal cramps even though it's not time for her period. The former are sad: you want to grab them and shake them until they understand that they can look good without the hipsters and the belly-overhang that is the preserve of pregnant women and truckies. The latter are potentially tragic and make you long for a government advertising campaign highlighting the damage to be done to spleen and kidney and other vital internal organs by inappropriately tight attire.

The wedgie. This appears to be a uniquely feminine variation on the "plumbette's crack": the woman who combines high-riding undies with low-riding jeans. The result is a strip of undie (sometimes quite a large strip of undie) peeking over the top of the pants waistband. No doubt, for knicker fetishists, this is a dream come true: no need to pinch undies off a woman's clothes line, she'll just parade them for you, risk free. And the other thing I've noticed is that the undies in question always seem to be pale blue. No kidding; just as it invariably appears that the butt framing the "plumber's crack" is pale, hairy, and heftily on the larger-than-life scale, so the wedgie variant of "plumbette's crack" invariably involves blue undies. Don't ask me why; I don't know. I figure it must be some sort of natural law, like gravity. And don't call me weird, either; you notice this sort of thing when you're a console operator. And besides, you should be asking these women why they feel it necessary to expose their undergarments in public!

The drunk. This individual is not only the bottom-feeder of the "plumbette's crack" universe, they're the saddest as well. This is usually the woman of a "certain age" who is also well past the first flowering of youthful beauty, and who turns up having spent most of the evening (and day) at a pokies bar, an "over 40s" nightclub, or other similarly salubrious establishment. Needless to say, they're well and truly lubricated, inclined to either quarrelsomeness or inappropriate familiarity, and attired in a fashion that in all charity can only be described as "Skanks R Us". Naturally, hipster jeans feature prominently in the assemblage, as do low-cut tops, bad plastic surgery, fake tans, too much make-up, and hair teased and coloured to within an inch of its life. The overall effect is pitiable, and perhaps the less said about them the better...

But what all these variations have in common is the phenomenon of "plumbette's crack". As soon as a woman representative of one of these categories leans over to take something off a shelf, or grab something from the fridge, you're exposed to a "crack" so prominent your instinctive reaction is to mistake it for a slot machine and start furiously inserting coins. And, yes, I blame "hipster" jeans for this blight of unwanted feminine butt cleavage. And, yes, I blame the fashion industry for putting self-indulgence and profit ahead of dignity and health. And, yes, I blame women for being so shallow and mediocre as to allow themselves to be enslaved to this kind of aesthetic and existential stupidity. And, yes, I blame men for encouraging women in the delusion that they look "sexy" in these jeans (when in truth the blokes probably just want to get them whipped off ASAP).

But, lest I'm accused of being entirely sexist (and the less charitable among you probably already think that I am), I must confess that I have started noticing a similar trend among young men. Except that in their case, it's not so much a case of hipster jeans causing "plumber's crack" as daggy pants causing "full crack exposure". By which I mean that young men seem to have taken to into their heads in the last couple of years that wearing ultra baggy pants represents an especially attractive look - not only this, but that wearing said baggy pants not around their hips but around their thighs is an indicator of their fashionability! More than once in recent times I've had to none-too-gently require some gangling youth to be so unfashionable as to wear his pants properly and spare the rest of the sight of his boxer shorts. I just dread the day when some fool decides it's even more fashionable to go au naturale under his wilting tweeds...

So, as you gather, I'm not a fan of current fashions, pants-wise. I just hope women start following Jessica Simpson's lead (and whoever thought I'd say that) and decide that wearing jeans around their waist can be equally sexy and fashionable - but, more importantly, more consonant with their dignity as human beings. And let's hope the blokes do, too!

Talk to you soon,

BB.

Quote for the Day: Sure, deck your lower limbs in pants; yours are the limbs, my sweeting. You look divine as you advance - have you seen yourself retreating? (Ogden Nash)