Dear Chub Rub,
Yes, I know that your official name is Inner Thigh Chaffing, but you’ve been a part of my life for so long that I think I’ve earned the right to call you Chub Rub.
I remember the first day we met at the water park in junior high. I was wearing my favorite cutoff shorts and one-piece swimsuit, running around from water slide to water slide. My thighs were having a friction party and you just joined right in.
I didn’t even notice you at first, but, boy, did you get my attention! It started first with that pinching feeling; then came the heat. With every subsequent step, it felt like steam was rising from where my thighs touched and by the time I got home, it was all irritation, blisters, and long pants for a week. You made your grand entrance into my life that day, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. Kind of like my thighs, but not as nice.
Remember when I bought that cute sundress in college and you told me to wear biker shorts underneath it? I hated the way it looked, but you convinced me it was the only way I’d make it across campus without crying.
Then there was that time I threw a sundress on over my bathing suit and walked a mere 10 minutes to my apartment. I didn’t think you’d show up for such a short quick bare legged jaunt, but you proved me wrong, didn’t you? The painful lesson you taught me that day has been forever etched in my memory.
I had to draw the line when you embarrassed me by having me wear Spanx shorts under a minidress. I mean, sure, the Spanx were a little shorter than the dress, therefore, staying concealed while I was standing. But, when I sat down or raised my arms, you could see the Spanx peeking out from under my dress. Not cute, Chub Rub…not cute! Basically, you’ve been holding my summer style hostage, Chub Rub.
When I got my first brazilian wax, I had to put layers of shorts on under my dress afterwards, which totally killed the liberating, hair-free-down-there moment. All I ever wanted was to walk around bare-legged like other girls, but the chains of chaffing miserably bound me.
Well, I decided this summer to break free from that layered nonsense. Baby powder and deodorant are enough to keep some girls’ thighs from chaffing, but unfortunately that’s never worked for me. After doing some research about various skin protectants, I’ve come up with a long-lasting way to prevent inner thigh chafing. Sure, it's kind of embarrassing, but it works.
Although you’ve been with me for a while, I don’t miss you. A summer without you, Chub Rub, means a summer of mini-skirts and freedom! Did you see me last week in those dresses? I walked around New York City completely, confidently bare-legged and loving it.