October 25, 2007 - Issue 250
Press the F11 key for a larger full screen view
Home
On Lesbians and the Sagging Pants
Unapologetically Young, Black and Female...
By Jasmyne A. Cannick
BC Columnist
HELP!!! We are facing a $27,000 shortfall from now until December. With money getting tight for so many people, the number of new BC Paid Subscribers and BC Contributors is way down. Please become a BC Paid Subscriber, or send what you can as a BC Contributor. Already a BC Paid Subscriber? Login to see if it's time to renew or if you can contribute a little extra Click Here! Thank you for helping to keep BlackCommentator online for you.

To me, there’s only one thing worse than being subjected to the boxer shorts of a brotha out in the open while his pants barely come up to the bottom of his ass, and that’s having to look at it on a woman.

As a Black lesbian, I am not immune to the fact that many of us choose to wear our pants that way.  I see it out in the streets and I see it up in the club.  My observation has been that this trend is bigger with mostly younger Black lesbians who tend be more masculine in appearance.  This is not to say that lesbians in their 30s, 40s, and 50s don’t partake in the sagging of the pants, but by and large, in my opinion, it’s women under 30.

Rrecently, an acquaintance I hadn’t seen or spoken to in quite some time contacted me and asked me out on a date.  Okay, no problem, I’m down.  I really didn’t think anything of it.  In fact, I was excited to see her since we hadn’t seen each other in a couple of years. 

When she arrived to pick me up, though, it hit me like a ton of bricks.  Picture rapper Da Brat in 1999, oversized clothes and yes, the pants were low and the boxers were high.

And it’s important to point out that a certain amount of “sag” is to be expected.  The kind that shows the top of the boxers, not the bottom.

But still game and willing to go out and catch up, I jumped in the car and off we went.

In the couple of years since we’d last seen each other, I had made significant changes in my life.  I had moved up the career ladder and moved over from state politics to Federal politics, working for a Member of Congress.  I was also about to turn 30.  I’d honed my image as a community activist and journalist and there’s almost nowhere I go in certain parts of L.A. that I don’t see someone I know.  My “friend,” however, was still trapped in time.  At the tender age of 37, she was still living at home with Moms and still fantasizing about being a rap star.  I’m not holding any of that against her, but these are the things one casually observes when going out on a date.

What I couldn’t get over was the sagging pants and the boxers.  It made me uncomfortable.  I felt like people were staring at us while we were out and to be honest, I was embarrassed.

When I got home, I couldn’t shake the image of her ass in those pants.  I felt bad for being so judgmental toward her in my thoughts. I kept saying to myself that it’s not right, that people do this to lesbians and gays all the time, she’s a part of my community, blah blah blah.  I even went out with her several more times, trying to see if I could, if nothing else, work through my issues about the pants.

Finally one day, I flat out said to her that aside from being friends, I wasn’t sure what else there could be between us.  This came after my best friends had a get-together and I skipped out on going because I was with her and I didn’t want to hear my friends' mouths about my choice in dating.

I don’t judge my friends on their appearances, meaning, I’m not going to not be your friend just because you dress like a prostitute or you dress like a gangsta.  From my skater friends to my hood friends, it’s all good.  But dating and relationships are a completely different scenario.

The bottom line, given the places and people with whom I deal, was that there was no way I could take her with me anywhere other than to the club, the movies, or out to eat in a dimly lit restaurant on the outskirts of town.

It was a hard pill for me to swallow because I felt I was being discriminatory toward her.  I asked her repeatedly not to come over to my house with her pants hanging off her ass, looking like she “affiliated.”  She ignored me.  I told her how uncomfortable it made me feel and that I didn’t like that image. When she lost her job, I took the time to try and discuss possibly changing her image before she went out on the job hunt, that maybe this was a good time to make the transition into dressing like an adult.  To me, that doesn’t necessarily mean suits and ties, but it means not showing your boxers and wearing clothes that are four times too large for you.  I know women who are masculine in appearance and dress in clothes that are sporty and hip hop, i.e. loose fitting, but they don’t sag their pants to the point where they are showing their underwear.

Eventually, I had to break it off, in terms of dating, with my “friend” and I made it very clear why.  While willing to overlook, for the time being, the unemployment, being 37 and living with Moms and the dream of being a superstar rapper, I couldn’t let go of the sagging pants.

Her response was that I was too bourgeois and anti-hip hop, of which I am neither.  I was born in 77’ and came of age during what I like to refer to as the Golden Era of hip hop. To this day, I love hip hop, for better or worse.  My moving on had nothing to do with hip hop;  it had to do with two people who traveled different paths in life and discovered that they didn’t have much in common anymore.  It’s not bourgeois, it’s reality.  To me, there’s nothing cute or sexy about a woman nearing her 40s, still dressing like a teenager. 

I wish her well and hope that one day she understands that my issues with her had nothing to do with being bourgeois or anti-hip hop, but had more to do with my trying to give her the benefit of the doubt and with her not being able, ready, or willing to accept the truth of the matter.

As for those younger lesbians who like dressing to show off their boxers, and to the women who find it attractive, to each their own, but at some point a change has gotta come.  I’m not hating, just relating.

BC Columnist Jasmyne Cannick is a social commentator, nationally syndicated journalist and activist who was chosen as one of ESSENCE Magazine's 25 Women Shaping the World. She is a member of the National Association of Black Journalists and writes a popular daily blog at jasmynecannick.com. She resides in Los Angeles. Click here to contact Ms. Cannick.

Home

Your comments are always welcome.

e-Mail re-print notice

If you send us an e-Mail message we may publish all or part of it, unless you tell us it is not for publication. You may also request that we withhold your name.

Thank you very much for your readership.