On Salon, a skort wearer writes in “Skorts Killed My Sex Appeal“:
I even wore it on the spiral slide at the park, screaming at my male friend on the ride down, “Don’t worry! It’s a skort!”
He wasn’t even looking. Lately, they’re just not looking.
The skort had delivered on its promise. It had spayed me. It had communicated to the world that I am a mother, that the body part under my skort — my skagina, if you will — has accomplished the signature biological act of my species, and that now, I’d prefer that no one look at me.
On second thought, I don’t think that’s what I’d like my clothing to say.
You know, I think maybe it’s just that skorts are for golfing, and stuff, lady? You could wear a skimpy top with them! And maybe some lucite heels! It’s all going to be okay! I’m sure I’d like to see your skagina!
Well, maybe I could find a gentleman friend to take a look. It’s the ska part of your gina that scares me.
Anyhow, does anyone wear skorts? Are they fun? Are they… destroying your sex appeal? I mean, they seem fine, except for the whole going to that bathroom and then having to re-do the skirt panel thing. I like all of my articles of clothing to say “a lot of my life is based around going to the bathroom quickly, like a convict on the lam, running through a field.” That is why there is so much orange in my closet. It is upping my sex appeal no end.