Showing posts with label underwear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label underwear. Show all posts

Monday, September 21, 2009

Success

I went underwear shopping yesterday. The old stuff was not fitting well under my cycling tights. When your underwear is so old and saggy that your lycra wrinkles, it's time to at least consider upgrades.

Teen daughter and I hit Winners after spending much time getting her another cell phone and plan. This will be plan # 5. May it outlast the rest. Although I do hope her background picture is changed - much as I claim to have looked awesome this morning when she laughed hysterically and took my picture, she has evidence to the contrary. Her description of my cycling garb is quite funny. Glad she is sarcastic. I can't imagine having a kid incapable of sarcasm.

Winners on a Sunday afternoon is calm. The underwear racks were wide open, and I started the hanger shuffle.

I think putting underwear on hangers would be a really lousy job.

The shuffle began as it always does - promising, there are cotton panties here, let's check out the waistband. An elastic waistband, even if covered in fabric, must be overlapped to minimize the seam. A flat seam is good. A bulky seam is not. I don't want a bulky seam leaving its impression in my less than rock hard midsection. The promise fades as I realize most of the seams are done wrong.

I find a pair with all my criteria. Except it says Hello Kitty. I've mentioned this before - I'm 42. I do not wear Hello Kitty anything, especially not underwear. That's just wrong. I can understand it in tween or smaller sizes, but they had some in women's extra large. I opted to leave the Hello Kitty panties for someone 1/3 my age - preferably younger.

Why do they make so many kinds of nylon underwear? Who wears nylon underpants? Or mylar, or whatever it's called? My parents were very keen on teaching us the merits of underwear that breaths. Well, not literally - it must allow your bum to breath. Again, not literally. I mean, I don't have a full set of lungs anywhere near my ass. This is a good thing, as there are times when inhaling in that region would be most unpleasant. What my parents meant was that the smells must escape.

That reminds me of a story told by an anthropologist. He and some colleagues had been hanging out with a hunter gatherer tribe, untouched by western civilization, yadda yadda yadda. When they finally asked the tribe members if they had any questions, they asked why do you wear clothes that hold in your farts?

An excellent question. Given that clothing is not optional in a busy city, why make that situation worse with mylar or elastane or any type of synthetic crap clinging to your butt?

I did find many practical pairs of underwear. But only if you wear pants that go up to your armpits. If my trousers rise up to just below my bellybutton, my underwear should not reach well past my waist, front or back. They should rest, comfortably, a few inches below the pants.

Happily DKNY seem to have mastered the art of the cotton bikini brief without badly sewn waist elastic, and some of their garments ended up at Winners. I am now comfortably clad in underwear that fit nicely under lycra, breath, do not shift into areas in which they do not belong, and do not pinch. Too bad they only had a few pairs in my size.

It's the little things that matter. Like comfy gotch.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Underpants

I am 42 years old.

I have been wearing underwear since I was 2. According to my mother, reluctantly - I preferred the diaper.

I survived braless until I had kids. Despite seriously tiny boobs, saggage occurred. Not much, but enough that a bra is needed for 2 reasons.

1. Hoist the wee former milkers up to a respectable level (no, it's NOT eye level).
2. Hide the nips office air conditioning causes.

This means I have decades of experience with both gotch and brassieres. I can tell you I loath and despise shopping for either.

Bras

For some reason, bra manufacturers have decided women are like concrete - we need reinforcing. While the underwire is not rebar, it can feel like it. I refuse to wear underwire bras. Fabric should be more than adequate to support a few ounces of flesh. There are 3 types of underwire free bras I've discovered.

1. The sports bra. This is designed to clamp boobs to chest with a grip Superman would envy. As noted above, this type of support for my tiny bosom is excessive. Also, they tend to cover vast areas beyond the actual fat deposits, and feel almost as sexy as control top pantyhose. Almost.

2. The actual woman's bra, without underwire. These are almost as difficult to find as honest personal ads. Not that I look for the latter, I'm just guessing they are like resumes, but less accurate. When found, I tend to buy all of them. Sadly, most tend to come in odd colours. Why would I want a blue bra? I don't want to wear a blue bra under a white blouse. Or under anything, really.

3. The training bra. This name always makes me giggle. What are they being trained for? Constriction? Horrible underwire bras? This is a rapidly diminishing source of wire-free bras, as even the kiddie brassieres are rapidly growing wires. Can I just point out that pre-pregnancy breasts are fabulously beautiful gravity defying creatures, and sticking a wire under them is pointless? I hope it's pointless. My other issue with underwire is its tendancy to escape the fabric and poke. Fuck, I hate them!

Gotch

I love the word gotch. I don't know why. Gotch. Fungible. Revolting. Anyone who thinks gotch are fungible is revolting. We used to call my little sister gotchola and throw underwear at her. Now we have the audacity to complain that she lives thousands of miles away. We were assholes. Sorry Andrea.

Most underwear is made out of industrial strength polyester, and should never, ever touch skin. Never. I don't want something that, if too hot, will melt into my privates anywhere near my groin.

Much of the remaining panty stock is made of lace. Nylon lace. Scratchy nylon lace. How sexy is the feeling that you need to scratch? It's not. Neither are nylon lace underpants.

Then you have your standard cotton panties. These fall into 2 types. Uncomfortable, and comfortable. The former outnumber the latter about 100 to 1.

Criteria for comfortable cotton panties.

1. Elastic should not be sewn into a bulky seam that chafes the side and the inner thighs. My inner thighs are sensitive, something I am happy about, and I do not wish to desensitize them through constant chafing.
2. They should not reach the armpits. My coverage needs are modest. Briefs should be brief.
3. Butt floss need not apply. I realize the thong gained enormous popularity. Not here.

I've complained about our profligate spending in prior posts, and noted my holy underwear is unlikely to be replaced due to poverty. But the truth is in this post. I simply lack the willpower to search for the needle in the haystack that is the perfect cover for my sexy bits.