We Get It, Jenna Bush Hager Doesn’t Wear Underwear

Former President George W. Bush's daughter can't stop talking about going commando. Enough!!!

We Get It, Jenna Bush Hager Doesn’t Wear Underwear
Photo:NBC (Getty Images)

There are so many frightening things happening in our world on a daily basis: countries at war; Elon Musk trying to be funny; a mouse making a house in my kitchen cabinet. But by far the most upsetting thing to wake up to is yet another story of Jenna Bush Hager discussing that she doesn’t wear underwear. Today she continued that frightful reign, and there is no end in sight.

“Jenna Bush Hager’s daughter confirms mom ‘never wears underwear’ on ‘Today,’” the upsetting Page Six headline read. “Jenna Bush Hager reveals she went COMMANDO at a dinner with King Charles the night before the Queen died” an insane Daily Mail headline declared last month. In March of this year, Bush Hager discussed her preferential panty rejection on the Today Show, to Hoda and Savannah’s dismay. The amount of press this tidbit is getting must have the Fruit of the Loom marketing people in shambles. Big Underwear is on notice.

Look, I simply do not care if the former first daughter of our greatly troubled nation does or does not wear underwear. I would say I care so little about it that I would, in fact, actually prefer to not know about it. I don’t want to think about why she does or does not like panty lines or if she gets swamp crotch. I want to think of her how I think of both AM talk show hosts and former presidents’ children: as genital-less Barbie dolls whose main purpose is lighting a Christmas tree.

Someone in Bush Hager’s inner circle is encouraging this storyline, telling her it’s quirky, it’s relatable. Some underpaid assistant keeps fake laughing too hard at her talking about going commando, followed by a “girl, you’re crazy!” and Bush Hager must be thinking to herself, “Wow I really am crazy…in a fun way.” But I need this message to get through to her: STOP. We get it. You don’t wear underwear. I pick at my belly button lint. We’re all imperfect humans trying to make peace with the flesh prisons in which we’re locked.

I need Bush Hager to go back to interviewing Netflix celebrities and recommending presents for difficult-to-shop-for people in your life. (What do I get my 21-year-old sorority girl cousin?) I can’t wake up to another story about her forgoing underwear. My Christmas wish is to find peace from this headline in the new year.

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