My Man Likes To Buy Me Hoochie (ish) Shorts. Why?

I don’t look nearly this good.

My boyfriend, John, likes to buy me clothes from time to time. Sounds great, right? It is, but he absolutely loves to get me hoochie shorts. Now, they’re not trashy, they’re more like the above, not thongs disguised as shorts. But I’m more of this kind of a woman:


So I always ask, “Why?” and he answers, “You have a great ass!” and I grumble because I don’t think I have one. It’s just there. Also, in my opinion, an ass is an ass and I can’t even see mine. When I do catch a glimpse of it in the mirror as I’m making sure that I’m presentable to the outside world, to me it’s still simply an ass. Hey look! I have one. Great. Good to know.

John doesn’t expect me to wear the hoochie shorts outdoors, as if I’m his trophy girlfriend (because I’m so NOT, he would have to go many years younger and umpteen degrees higher in hotness for that). They’re meant for lounging around the house. But, still, then these are the conversations I have in my mind whenever I receive a hoochie short as a gift.

Me: What does he expect me to do, prance around in the house wearing them? (Of course, then the image of me prancing around in a tight outfit springs into my mind, with me spouting all sorts of French phrases, such as Monsieur, would you like a drink? while I make him a cocktail and wave a feather duster around, as if anyone uses those nowadays, which they obviously don’t.)

Me 2: That’s better than him being like, hey fatass, I don’t want you to, because you’re a fatass. I am not going to buy you any clothes except for mumus and even then, maybe not.

Me: But I wouldn’t be with a guy like that anyway. And if the guy I was with ever said anything like that, I would kick his sorry ass. Then I would kick him to the curb.

Me 2: True. But he’s buying you these clothes because he’s being complimentary, like he thinks you would look great in them and he wants to indulge you. It’s kind of nice.

Me: Okay. I grant you that. However, what am I? A sex object?

Me 2: Well, no. Because if you were, you would be a total trophy girlfriend who would be draped in Harry Winston jewelry and would be loafing around and be doing nothing except maybe open up a cupcake shop to make yourself feel fulfilled.

Me: Hmmm. You have a point. He knows I’m not that kind of woman, though. So what’s with all the sexy clothes? What does this all mean?

Me 2: To you? Or him?

Me: Argggh! I don’t know! This is too much. More psychoanalysis than I’m up for. I am going to go take a nap or read a book.

The thing is, this is something men often like to do for women. Purchase sexy outfits for them. This is not something women do for men. We buy them sweaters or shirts that we think they would look good in; we apply a certain style to them, as if we were still children playing with dolls. How often have we said to ourselves, he would look so much better if he wore XYZ instead of those sloppy shirts and faded khakis? Or, those shoes he likes are terrible, doesn’t he know that his taste is completely dated? And then we go out and buy them little gifts of clothing or surreptitiously slip them into his closet.

What we don’t do, however, is get them tight briefs so they can stride around the house while we admire their asses. That’s just something most women don’t do. I don’t know why.

Ultimately, I think guys want the best of all worlds. To have someone who sashays around looking all delectable and also comfort them while they’re feeling down and also bring in some of the bacon. But, here’s the wake-up call. You can’t have it all, men! Because we women don’t have it all either. That’s not the way the world works!!

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