The thong: a brief history: women love 'em, men lust after them, pop stars even sing about these tiny underthings. Here, Cosmo looks back and chronicles the thong phenom. (Fashion Time Line).

The typical thong is a scant 3 inches of material--maybe--but the sensation created by these micro-undies has been huge. Thong production is currently the fastest-growing lingerie niche in the United States. The tiny triangle also inspired pop songs, seduced a President, and fueled the very necessary barely-there Brazilian wax trend.

How did the thong end up with throngs of admirers? In brief, because women just love the look they get from one--namely, that smooth butt, free of the unflattering hills and valleys caused by the elastic in other undies. "The first thing I do with a client is put her in a thong," says Fati Parsia, a celebrity stylist who has dressed the famous fannies of Catherine Zeta-Jones, Heather Locklear, and Kim Basinger. "When the goal is to look hot, which it always is, bulges and panty lines aren't doing you any favors. Thongs cover the essentials but leave you otherwise naked. What people notice is your gorgeous dress and the outline of your toned body underneath--a recipe for total sexiness."

Between 2000 and 2001 alone, lingerie companies jumped their thong production 30 percent and raked in close to $600 million nationally, according to NPD-Fashionworld, a provider of market information for the apparel industry. Thongs have become so popular that Always and Carefree are now making petite panty liners to fit them and designers like Calvin Klein are even creating thongs for men. Hey, guys don't want lines either.

Believe it or not, it started in 1939 at, of all places, the New York City World's Fair. The then-mayor, aghast at the nude dancers in the burlesque shows, insisted they cover up ... a little. Tada! The G-string, a close cousin of the thong, was created. It consisted of a triangle of material in front and a strip between the cheeks because they were considered okay for public view. For the next 30 years or so, the barely-there bottom stayed in strippers' closets.

Jump to the 1970s, an adventurous new age. Bad-boy fashion designer Rudi Gemreich, who had already created a stir with topless swimsuits, introduced the thong suit. It tanked in America, but it took off among the less demure ladies of the French Riviera and Brazil. In 1981, Frederick's of Hollywood, the hot-to-trot lingerie company, debuted the thong--but as underwear. Not ones to beat around the bush, they called it the Scanty Panty.

On the Richter scale of enthusiasm, it registered a zero. Americans were embarrassed by the minuscule things. The Scanty Panty represented a very scanty 5 percent of the company's overall underwear sales that year. Still, Frederick's of Hollywood doesn't scare easily, and despite the puny reception, it continued to peddle the panty. According to Christine Ansari, Frederick's senior vice president and general merchandise manager, it was a venture they were certain would eventually pay off. "The country had just gone through a sexual revolution in the 1970s, and that was a key indicator that American women were ready for such risque lingerie," says Ansari. Those instincts were right smack on the money. These days, the slimmed-down Skivvies account for 90 percent of Frederick's overall underwear--sales they're currently selling more than 85,000 thongs a week.

the thong catches on