A Brief History of Cameltoe

Where does the crotch discourse currently stand, and how did we get here?

By Tracy Clark-Flory  |  May 26, 2020 | 3:00pm
In Depth
A Brief History of Cameltoe

Illustration: Angelica Alzona

Several weeks ago, having embraced the excuse to swear off zippers and buttons for the foreseeable future, I bought a few pairs of discounted yoga pants. When they arrived, I excitedly ripped off the tags and tried them on, only to discover an inexplicably dramatic crotch seam that divides as the thin, clinging fabric simultaneously unites. “Holy cameltoe,” I said to the mirror. These pants seemed structurally engineered to maximize the front-wedgie effect, like a pushup bra for the crotch. I took my predicament to Jezebel Slack, genuinely wondering whether cameltoe had moved from faux pas to fashion without my knowledge. One of my editors helpfully informed me, “Tracy, you need leggings with a crotch gusset sewn in.” Turns out I’d just bought some poorly constructed yoga pants.

However, now I was thinking about the use of the term cameltoe as a peculiar cultural phenomenon that has fluxed for decades between critique, comedy, eroticization, and self-help. Now I was asking a very important question: Where does the crotch discourse currently stand, and how did we get here?

The term, already in circulation by the ‘90s, was more widely popularized in 2001 by the according to the New York Times.

The song’s key lyrics: “Walking down the street/Something caught my eye/A growing epidemic that really ain’t fly/A middle-aged lady/I gotta be blunt/Her spandex biker shorts were creepin’ up the front/I could see her uterus, her pants were too tight.” An accompanying music video featured an animation of said middle-aged lady walking down the street in a crop top and spandex as her belly jiggled. Cartoon onlookers gawked, cried, and vomited in response. The Times delicately explained to readers: “Cameltoe is slang for a fashion faux pas caused by women wearing snug pants… The song is a cautionary tale, intended to help victims—help them, that is, by ridiculing them—into recovery.” The fashion misstep wasn’t spandex, so much as spandex worn by a middle-aged woman.

Within a year, some porn studios recognized this “faux pas” as opportunity—the supposedly revolting aspects of women’s bodies and behaviors always slide so easily into titillation!—and released titles such as Camel Toe, Camel Toe Perversions, and Camel Toe Jockeys 1.

There, it almost seemed, that the moment had passed. The “cameltoe” chatter quieted. Maybe it was less of an insult once men were masturbating to it.

But alongside the told Glamour that the group’s mission was to specifically fight the “appalling” sight of a “legging-clad crotch.”

The following year, Marie Claire was spell out the word itself: “Wear Skinny Jeans Without Fear! These Genius New Underpants Prevent _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _!”

It’s all just tiresomely predictable: alongside invitations to reveal their bodies, women are warned to appropriately contain them.