Let's be brief

While the world burns over Sarkozy’s sacreligious burqa ban, another clothing controversy, one that has roiled beachgoers and pool partiers for decades, has been forgotten in light of recent runway developments. Though it is required for many Muslim women to be completely swathed in shapeless black robes more appropriate for an army of Sith lords, Galliano and several other haughty couturiers proved that the cumbersome relic of Sharia law (the abaya at least) can be made to look sexy and luxe. The debate over whether Muslim women have a right to cover up, or whether non-Muslim governments have a right to ask them to reveal themselves for reasons of national security, rages on while Al Quaeda threatens retaliation, as they often do.

But what about men in Speedos? Unless they’re Michael Phelps, do they have a right to parade their goods in public waterways when, clearly, a significant number of the population find it offensive, repulsive, or at the very least, hilarious, when a male bather disrobes and reveals an affinity with the Hoff? Maybe in Western nations like France, we do expect a certain level of brazen bronzing en flagrante on the beaches — they did, of course, invent topless sunbathing. And in more morally liberal countries like Brazil, guys are even gutsier, wearing the G-string like it don’t mean a thang. (They believe in equality — it takes two to tanga.) The better to show off a perfectly sculpted, surgically enhanced butt even Hayden Kho would envy. But, where do we draw the line? Surely somewhere below the balls.

DSquared and D&G recently paraded itsy bitsy, not-for-teeny-weenies swim trunks on their ramps. Incidentally, Brüno has been making caught-on-camera appearances dressed in ridiculous outfits like a skin-tight bull costume, or jock straps forged out of stainless steel. The one thing his sartorial selections have in common is that they all highlight the family jewels in a very prominent manner, like a Wonderbra that lifts, separates, and thrusts. Brüno, the fashion faux-nomenon and Borat before him, enjoy reveling in the breezy freedom that exposed thighs bring, not to mention the gasps of shock and awe.

However, a lot of men are still opposed to this excessively lax expression of leisure. My friend Alexei says that he would wear the swim briefs — under something. Or, if he had the right abs, legs, glutes and pecs he might, but only in those mythical places like Brazil and France where most men sport them. My other friend JC says he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing them, but suggests a happy compromise between the baggy, butt crack-baring boardshort and the skimpy, sack-hugging skivvies: a smart, mid-length short that can be found on www.orlebarbrown.com.

Whether the burqa or the bikini brief — it’s all about rights, isn’t it? Banning the burqa undermines Muslim women’s rights while not doing anything particular about the deep roots of oppression, which the ban supposedly addresses. And men, even those not from Austria, have the right to choose what length of bottoms they take to the beach. It is a profoundly personal choice. But when it comes to the Speedos, I pull a quote from one of my favorite movies, Hackers: “Lycra. It’s a privilege, not a right.”