Friends, Fanny +Pole Dancing

Well would you look at that, a friend! Just kidding, it’s a stranger I scared away with socially inept small talk.

This week I learnt it’s not great to mention fanny in public.

Before I elaborate any further, I have always been under the strong impression that fanny is a great word. You get some sweet onomatopoeia with the word ‘flap’ and also it’s funny to say (go on, say it out loud a few times, I guarantee you’ll have a great time and so will everyone around you).

Vagina? Very clinical. Pussy? Little bit weird.

Fanny? Hil-lar-eee-us.

the more clinical ‘vagina’ lacks the fanny flair

Fanny, fanny….funny.

If you’re trying to make a new friend though, do not mention fanny; flapping or otherwise.

Recently I had to take my daughter on a playdate and it was one of those weird ones where you have to stay and chat to the other mum that you don’t really know. Petition to make all playdates “drop my child and run” please, unless the other person is actually a mate.

We start talking about exercise, and she mentions she does pole dancing. Awesome, great, something I’m genuinely interested in.

(Side note: This is pole dancing as a sport/exercise. Playdate Suburban Mum is not an exotic dancer in her spare time, but I’d love to have a friend who is – they could teach me moves. I bet I’d be real graceful, like a sensual a swan).

So we chit chat about pole dancing for a while and everything is going swimmingly well – until I asked about the outfits.

Playdate Mum: “Oh you wear a bikini, underwear, whatever you’re comfortable in.”

We’re looking at photos at this point, and most of the ladies have on pretty minuscule underwear.

I think this looks incredibly practical and also really cool; but imagine hanging upside down with your legs spread-eagle while you spin around a shiny pole, wearing a tiny little shred of fabric. Immediately I think of the potential fanny flaps slipping out the sides.

Being the person that I am (unfortunately) I blurt this out.

“Yea but like, what if your fanny slips out? Lol.” Obvious question. Maybe there’s some kind of tape involved? I don’t know.

In the moment, I thought this was funny and I firmly stand by that notion. Imagine trying really hard to do some yoga or whatever but your pants are too small and then whoops, out the side slips a fanny flap. That’s fucking hilarious.

my goodness gracious is that a breeze I feel?

The playdate mother did not think this was funny at all. Silence filled the playdate sphere. Then, “…it doesn’t.”

I’d like to point out in this case I wasn’t really trying to make a friend, more just trying to keep the two hour playdate from being a shit tonne of awkward silences and pretending to care about someone else’s kids. If you can have a laugh together it’s much better.

Where I usually go wrong though is trying to extend my humorous anecdotes (they are humorous, trust me, you’ll love them) when the other person in question isn’t really feeling my vibe. Leaving the jokes flapping lonesome in the wind, if you please.

I stand there, giggling into my coffee cup, imagining an accidental fanny faux pas. Playdate Mum does not giggle. Does not, in fact, even muster a thin fake smile.

“….it doesn’t.” The silence is both deafening and golden. Deafening because I’m now realising she’s not going to have a laugh about flaps and wants to just pretend to care about each others kids, and I’m, ya know, in her house. Golden, because for some reason I thrive on awkward silences.

Queue awkward laugh from me, cause I’d just said the word fanny and it was still ringing fabulously in the silence.

“Imagine though. It could just slip out. Whoops, a fanny slip!”

“….”

“That’d be funny.”

“…”

“An accidental fanny slip.”

“….”

“Just out the side.”

“…No.”

An accidental fanny slip in a group of women (all with fanny flaps themselves) is funny. This playdate is not as fun as it could have been. Playdate Mum let the fanny slip right through her fingers.

Today I conducted a very scientific research study, asking several people if the word fanny is, indeed, objectively funny.

The consensus was a resounding ‘Yes it is funny, of course.’ Then again, all the people I asked? Objectively great people.

Maybe, this isn’t a lesson on how to make friends awkwardly when you have a myriad of anxieties.

Maybe it’s a way to filter out the un-funnys & the passively judgmental, the Playdate Mums who probably aren’t up for a sneaky wine and frown when you accidentally swear around their children. Throw a fanny at them. Let various fanny slip out all around them. It might actually be really great to slip out a fanny in public (the word you perve). If they laugh? Instant friends. If they frown…well…..

Friends find fanny funny. Embrace the flaps.

Namaste x

P.S. If you have ever actually done pole dancing wearing some tiny underwear that just barely covers your vagina, and you have ever felt the need to adjust the fabric because a flap is threatening to slip itself cheekily out the side, please email me. I wanna know. I must know.