Underwear, Or a Lack Thereof.
June 11th, 2006 by Kevin
I love underwear. (I refuse to say “panties”. “Panties” is a stupid word. When I worked at Victoria’s Secret I was forced to say “panties” instead of underwear and the word felt foreign and far too prissy in my mouth.)
At last count I owned eighty-three pairs. A lot of them don’t fit anymore, but I am completely unwilling to part with the fancy stuff that is still in primo condition. I will probably save them until I am geriatric or until I win the lotto and get that tummy tuck, whichever comes first.
I have everything from the garden-variety, boring, Hanes cotton jobs to the sex candy butt floss (which is obviously rotting in the bottom of the drawer, never to be seen again, as my sex life is non-existent); to a pair of boxer briefs I once filched off of an ex to work out in because they were so comfortable.
Most women are very particular about underwear. I know a girl who refuses to wear anything but one breed of Vic’s Secret cotton briefs, claiming that anything polyester will breed crotch monsters; one who will not wear cotton, claiming that it chafes; and one who goes commando, claiming that underwear itself is a tool of The Man, who is trying to rein in our genitals and make us subdued and subservient.
I don’t understand the commando thing. I enjoy my underwear far too much to go without. Plus, correct me if I’m wrong, but unless a woman is post-menopausal or lacking in certain normal bodily functions, are there not certain small secretions that must be kept in check?
Not to get graphic, but I feel that some sort of barrier must be provided between the crotch and the clothes, if you get what I’m saying.
One thing I am extremely squicky about is the idea of loaning underwear. I have been asked to do so on two separate occasions and have balked both times before reluctantly agreeing to dole out a pair of my dainties.
I don’t feel that my friends are harboring disease, little green bugs, or any other sort of below-the-belt nastiness, but for some reason I have a problem with this. Call it underwear selfishness, but I advise the borrower to keep the drawers, because I won’t wear them again.
I won’t borrow your toothbrush - you shouldn’t borrow my underwear.
One mystery that haunts me still is the mystery of the burgundy velvet underwear. I bought them when I was working at Vic’s, on sale and with my employee discount, and fell deeply in love with them. They fit perfectly and were so comfortable! They were the perfect pair - luxurious and comfortable and cute.
A month later, they disappeared. Poof. No velvet underwear. I looked everywhere for these damned underwear. No dice.
I have moved several times since then, and each time I still search diligently for the missing undies. I still believe that they are out there, somewhere, perhaps floating in space, looking to be reunited with my ass.
The most amusing underwear I have in my collection are my pregnancy underwear. Since I wanted the most comfortable underwear imaginable and was, at the time, quite miserable, I thought I would also go for the most flamboyant, ridiculous, goofy-looking underwear available.
I went to the “big girls’” store and found super-giant cotton underwear in bright, loud colors and the most gaudy prints you can imagine, and I wound up with lime green- and electric purple-striped underwear that went up to my sizeable waist, along with other pairs in fluorescent orange floral patterns, hot pink checks, and rainbow polka dots. I still smile every time I see those in the underwear drawer.
I also have Superman underwear that look like boys’ briefs. You really can’t mess with Superman underwear. They take me back to the days of Underoos. Remember Underoos? When I was four I had Wonder Woman Underoos, and I believed them to be so infused with magical power that I jumped off of my cousin’s steel bunk beds, thinking that I could fly.
I still have a scar.
And for the record, I still think that maybe I could have flown if I’d have gotten a better head start.
Riffling through the underwear drawer is an interesting way to see how my weight has changed over the past ten years. Toward the back of the drawer are silver silk panties that are about the size of a mouse pad. Toward the middle of the drawer are the giant electric maternity undies. Stuck here and there in between are various thongs and ass-ugly “period panties” which no self-respecting woman would be caught dead in.
Period panties are the ones that have rips, the ones which have dead elastic on the sides, the ones that look like something the cat has chewed on or perhaps shat in for a few months.
Women with new boyfriends don’t wear period panties.
My mother only wears one brand and color of underwear. I find this to be horribly sad. Why not wear only one brand and color of shirt, then, or (gasp), only one brand and color of shoe? There is absolutely no excuse for dull underwear. Even the cheap stuff comes in color.
I don’t understand or condone the whole underwear-peeking-out-of-the-clothes trend, but thankfully that seems to be dying down. For a while the prevalence of thong backs hanging above jeans was getting to be completely ridiculous.
I wish to have a stamp made that reads: “Inspected By No. 35, I Am Indeed An Ass”, or perhaps “I’d Like An Atomic Wedgie, Please!”. Then I can go around and stamp all of the little hoochie mamas that walk around in low-rise jeans and high-rise thongs.
On men I much prefer boxers or the boxer brief to tighty whities. Something about the tighty whitey just screams “My mother picked out this underwear,” and it sort of gives me the willies.
Here’s something that freaked me out: I was having a conversation with a good friend of mine about an ex-boyfriend (OK, we were talking shit), and she remarked, “I never liked him. The first time we met him, he had ripped underwear hanging out of his pants.”
“WHAT?????”
“Yeah.”
“You are fucking kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“And you didn’t feel the need to tell me this????”
“Well, you were talking to him.”
“Oh my GOD.”
“I figured you must have noticed.”
“I MUST HAVE NOTICED?? DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I WOULD HAVE IGNORED SOMETHING LIKE THAT??”
“I don’t know.”
“GAH!!!”
A year later, and I was still mortified.
I dated a wearer of slovenly underwear, and I had no idea.
It still gives me the chills to think about it.
So what’s your preference?
Jenn wrote on 06/13/06 at 3:12 pm :
I own 12 and most of them are old. Although I just single handedly bought 8 more, almost doubling my undies (a combo of both and what I call them) in one single shopping bound!
SaturnCat wrote on 06/13/06 at 10:59 pm :
I have an underwear hoard that a dragon would be proud of. If dragons actually hoarded underwear, of course. Lots and lots of colors and obnoxious patterns. Some satiny and bejeweled, some cotton so faded you can read through them. On men, I prefer boxer-briefs, though Husband goes for the tighty whities. I call them “boy panties”, which vexes Husband to no end.
Becky wrote on 06/14/06 at 6:07 am :
I have to admit I don’t always wear drawz. I prefer high cut satiny brief ones (cotton crotch) when I do wear them.
I can’t stand tighty whities. My husband has always worn boxers and my son insists on them as well.
‘Boy Panties’. Hee.
Red wrote on 06/14/06 at 7:08 am :
I will not, under any cirumstances what so ever, share my undies! No in the hell way!
Kate wrote on 06/14/06 at 10:02 am :
I own thirty or so, and they’re almost all Victoria Secret cotton bikinis or low rise bikinis. Different colors and prints and size small and medium, depending on the size of my ass at the time of purchase. Other than that, I have a couple of lacey things and a couple of nylon things, and three thongs reserved soley for clothing that requires them. I’m all about the cotton.
I would never share my underwear either, although I would give it away (with distaste!) in an emergency situation. And I would have a hard time sleeping with a man who wore “boy panties” - my husband, happily, always wears boxers.
trancejen wrote on 06/14/06 at 2:54 pm :
Boy panties! LOL
Jacki wrote on 06/15/06 at 8:10 am :
I should have known someone as hyper-awesome as you would be an underwear fiend. I used to think i maybe needed a support group, but now I think it’s worthy of a social club, like a book club or whatever. Underwear Lovers, UNITE
Dylan wrote on 06/20/06 at 1:35 am :
I have a question about period underpants. I’ve read many descriptions like the one you give here, yet I am puzzled. Am I alone in thinking black underpants were made for this job? That’s what all mine are. They’ve suffered many an indignity and yet still look fab, given that there are about five sets of them, and they only get fished out of the drawer once or twice a month.
Allyson wrote on 06/20/06 at 2:24 pm :
I only wear thongs. Can’t find a more comfortable set than the kind people usually refer to as “butt floss.” I don’t know what’s wrong with my ass, but any other type of underwear gives me a wedgie. Tight bikinis, those satiny types, full butt… all of them. So I just stick to the thong. I figure if I’m going to wind up with some of my underwear scrunched in my crack, I might as go for the least amount of fabric.
I also own about 75 pair. And I love them all.
Megan Moreno wrote on 11/12/08 at 7:05 pm :
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Blowjob. wrote on 11/14/08 at 11:51 am :
Blowjob….
Blowjob. Puking blowjob….