I’ve known my friend Frank for a long while. He’s good-natured, eager to help, and a dependable member on any team. He’s just a normal sort of fellow. The only thing that in the least sets him apart is that he wears a kilt instead of trousers.
Frank is even-tempered most of the time, but I’ve been present on more than one occasion when I’ve witnessed Frank not kill someone. The incidents went something like this:
Hail-Fellow-Well-Met Bloke (HFWMB): (in a terrible Scottish accent) Nice kilt, Laddie!
Frank: (turning red with anger because he knows where this is going) Thank you.
HFWMB: So, whatcha got under there? (as if this was something nobody had thought to ask before and with not so much as a “if ye don’t mind me ask’n”)
The next few moments are always critical. Frank looks as if he’s searching for a clever retort but in truth, he is performing a mantra in his head (“Why would a reasonable, rational person ask such a boneheaded thing?”) to change his chemistry away from anger and toward reason. Frank’s face clears, crisis averted.
Frank: (in an equally terrible Scottish accent and with forced smile) Joost me Scottish pride!
After the HFWMB has wandered away, Frank will ponder out loud, “When did it cease to be bad manners to ask a perfect stranger about their naughty bits in public?”
When indeed.
I’m not squeamish. I’ve changed my share of diapers for children of both sexes. I’m not a prude. I’m down for an evening of ribald banter under the appropriate circumstances. I know what all the body parts look like, and I have no qualms about discussing them – under appropriate circumstance. But I draw the line at asking a total stranger about the tackle they’re packing under their clothes.
Apparently, there are differing viewpoints on this. I broached it as a question with some friends. They all agreed that it was inappropriate…up to a point. Imagine this conversation (an amalgam of several).
Me: So by extension then, you agree that asking a fellow what’s under his kilt is inappropriate?
Friend 1: Oh, gosh no. That’s completely different.
Me: Different? Different how?
Friend 1: Because it’s a kilt, silly. That’s been a meme for forever!
Me: But why? Why is it okay in this case and not in others?
Friend 2: Because if a guy wears a garment that looks like a woman’s skirt, he puts himself out there for ridicule.
Me: So, a kilt is inappropriate?
Friend 2: No, just different. Besides, he’s not being asked about his bits, he’s being asked about his underwear.
Me: Actually, he’s being asked whether his bits are being covered by underwear or not. But, let me get this straight. Any garment that someone might wear that appears different from someone’s expectation opens them up to public examination of their genitalia?
Friend 2: Well, it does seem to raise questions.
Me: Does it? Okay, then, name me one article of clothing that a woman could wear out in public that would make it okay for a total stranger to ask what she had on under it and that would reveal whether her privates were exposed or not.
Friend 1: (pondering) There aren’t any, really. (after a pause) It’s different for women.
Me: Oh, I see. There’s a double standard. One for men and one for women.
Friend 1: Well, yes, I guess there is.
Me: Predicated on the fact that most men are special on the outside.
Friend 3: (finally jumping in) I see where this is going, and it’s not pretty.
It isn’t pretty at all. In the United States in particular, but similarly in other developed nations, we seem to have an obsession about what’s in someone else’s pants. It is an obsession with potentially serious implications. Take Frank’s example as a starting point. On the surface, the question itself, “So, whatcha got under there?” is harmless. Surely the HFWMB meant nothing by it and didn’t choose to pursue the topic. But what about someone standing nearby who overhears and either interprets or visualizes things differently, perhaps as a dangerous perversion to be noted. Wearing a kilt is neither dangerous nor a perversion, of course, but this could spin out of control quickly. The border between truth and delusion is narrow. If it could happen to the National Butterfly Center[1], it could certainly happen to Frank.
There are other examples, some equally innocuous. One of the first questions a transgender person, particularly a transgender woman, will be asked when they come out is, “Are you going to have the surgery?” No matter how well-intended, this is a highly personal and therefore utterly inappropriate question to ask. If the person chooses to share that his/her surgery date has been set, we can all celebrate with them. Until then, hands off. Their bits, present or future, are not our business.
The question escalates when we get to the bathroom topic. Although I have strong thoughts about that absurd debate, I’m not going to venture into them here. But if we were to apply reductio ad absurdum to those arguments, we arrive at the necessity of having armed inspectors (I can only assume that these must be state-altered eunuchs) at the door of every restroom in America sorting human beings based on their genitals like a dystopian version of the Witch of Killiechassie’s sorting bonnet. No thank you.
This whole obsession with what’s in someone’s pants, from kilts to sorting hats, has the same look and feel to me as icky Uncle Ralph who, at every family gathering, feels the need to put his hands on every niece and grandniece and give them a big sloppy kiss. Uncle Ralph doesn’t mean anything by it, necessarily, but he’s likely causing a world of harm. Bottom line, it’s not appropriate nor was it ever. It’s time for grandma to take Ralph aside and wise him up.
The next time you encounter a fellow in a kilt, if you feel the need to compliment him on his style, do so most sincerely. Likewise, if you meet a woman wearing a stunning skirt, let her know. If you go no further, you will have made two people smile. That’s what we need more of.
Frank is aware that his response to the question just perpetuates the problem, but he doesn’t wish to be rude. Can you suggest a better response that communicates the impropriety of the question while still being in the spirit of camaraderie?
[1] The National Butterfly Center is a 100-acre facility on the banks of the Rio Grande in Mission, Texas that is a preserve for many species of butterflies. The Center had to close its doors in February 2022 because of outlandish and completely unfounded theories that it was a cover for human smuggling, sex trafficking, and exploitation of children. The New York Times Sunday, February 5
Erica and Friends 