Op-Ed: My Parents Didn’t Immigrate To America For Me To Spend My Life With Aerie's Cheeky Lace Panties Wedged Between My Ass Cheeks

Aerie, wyd?

My family immigrated to America in search of a better life and better opportunities. For a better quality of life. For the American dream. So tell me: why am I constantly digging Aerie’s Lace Cheekies out my ass cheeks?

American Eagle’s intimates line is notoriously beloved, and deservedly so—you can get 20 mid-quality panties for less money than it costs to illegally download Ke$ha’s “Tik Tok” off Limewire (which is free).

But the Lace Cheekies, though? That shit tears my ass a fresh new hell. Every time I take a seat, or stand up from my seat, walk near a seat, or breathe, those lace cheekies descend so far into the crack I can feel them in my colon. If I wanted a cheap thong to carve into my ass, I would’ve gone to Rainbow. Why did my family leave a third world country for this?

Aerie, your underwear should not just be for the flat ass of a white girl who goes to sixteen weddings in a year and loves a statement necklace. My ass isn’t even that big, yet they swallow up those cheekies at least two times a month. My parents fled a war-torn country—why is my hungry ass here wasting panties? That just ain’t right.

I’m sorry Aerie, but enough is enough. I’m going to Lane Bryant in the morning. It’s what my parents would have wanted.