If women are products, then thots are cheap goods. More than that, they’re knockoffs: low-quality merchandise that attempts to masquerade as luxury items. One iteration of the Instagram meme sums it up: “Quit that high class act, lady. You’re a thot.” Only when the thot’s attempt to transcend class becomes apparent is her sexual behavior called into question. In “Thot 101,” Moon raps about a girl he thought was a “lil cutie,” fell in love with, and provided with emotional support, only to find that she was “around sucking everybody’s dick.” Moon “used to do dates and shit” until he realized “these bitches want money, I ain’t paying for shit.” The fantastical nightmare of the thot is a woman who pretends to be the type of valuable female commodity who rightfully earns male commitment—until the man discovers that she’s just a cheap imitation of a “good girl” who is good only for mindless sex, not relationships or respect.
Slut, too, hinges on a class divide. In their 2013 book Paying for the Party: How College Maintains Inequality, sociologists Elizabeth Armstrong and Laura Hamilton embedded with 50 white college women over the course of four years and learned about, among other things, their deployment of the term slut against other women. Armstrong and Hamilton found that women from affluent backgrounds, who flocked to the Greek system, used slut to call out girls they deemed “trashy” and not “classy,” while girls from working-class backgrounds wielded slut to impugn “rich bitches in sororities.” The term still connotes a lack of sexual propriety, but that calculation is constructed on signifiers of class background and social status as opposed to nightstand notches. This appears to be the case in Louisa County: “To the elite girls, the girls on Instagram were sluts not necessarily because they were sleeping around but because of what they looked like or how they acted,” Rosin notes. As one girl told her: “Let’s just say people have different body types.”