Squeamish boys should read no further. Sorry, fellas, it’s not that kind of party.
As Umbra has pointed out, a lady’s monthly menses doesn’t have to be an environmental catastrophe (emotional catastrophe is another matter). Instead, it can be a party! It can be a Party in My Pants! It can be PIMPin’, though in this case Jay-Z-style Big PIMPin’ might be less than desirable.
Enthusiastic Grist reader Elka alerted us to this undercover fashion statement, pondering, “Hm … should I snap on some martini glass PIMPs this morning, or perhaps some cowgirl PIMPs?” Party in my pants, indeed.
Check ’em out at health food stores and co-ops in the Midwest and Rainbow Grocery in San Francisco.
