Allow me to paint a picture for you: it's the summer of 2008, the sun is beating down on the ginormous parking lot in which Warped Tour is held. A massive crowd of sweating teenagers in ass-cheek-revealing shorts from Ruehl (OMG remember Ruehl? That's a story for another time…) gathers in front of a main stage. A 15-year-old me, armed with a single chunk of purple Manic Panic'd hair I was desperately trying to hide from my mom, whacks a crowd-amping beachball in the air and screams along to the lyrics, Don't trust a hoe, never trust a hoe, don't trust a hoe, don't trust me. Little did that gangly virgin know, we were but a decade away from a Hoe Renaissance, ushered in by that very song.
Did I need to give you 128 words of scene-setting before getting to the point? Yes, because it's critical you understand the societal impact of this one song: Don't Trust Me by 3OH!3 ubiquitized (not a word) the word hoe (the word of the moment) amongst middle class white women. The Colorado-based band of unidentifiable genre was one of the first to publicly be like, "Yes, I am a hoe and I don't care." Did years of screaming the chorus over the censored version at school dances get us comfortable with the idea of self-identifying as slutty ol' hoebags? I think so. And if a few decades when we're looking back at this time as the second sexual revolution, right up there with the 60s, we'll thank the visionary heroes who had millions of high school sophomores proudly tell everyone they know via MySpace bulletin that they were also hoes. We owe them our lives.