It’s almost shameful to admit, but I’ve been wearing the same style of underwear since I was a teenager. I decided quite awhile ago that anything adventurous that had to do with underwear should happen when they were removed. Every year I would trek to the semi-annual Victoria’s Secret sale and get my yearly stash of panties. The patterns were different, but the style remained the same: 100% cotton, hi-cut briefs.
This past June, I decided to get my health in order and began a weight loss and exercise program. Many wonderful things have happened; I was able to dust off that pre-baby wardrobe and wear it again, my feet wouldn’t be killing me after wearing heels for an hour, and some self-esteem returned to my universe. All was well, however, I began to notice that as I shed pound after pound, my underwear was slowly making the ascent up my mid-section.
The other day I came to realize that my old standby undies had turned into granny panties. For the less educated when it comes to unmentionables, granny panties are the underwear that are worn well above the bellybutton. There are really only a few times where the donning of granny panties is acceptable; when you’re going on an all day hike and need the breathable cotton, during that time of the month, because the excess material holds your maxi perfectly, and if you are unfortunate enough to be set up on a date with a person that you know you will never want to fuck. Aside from that, granny panties are a big no-no for anyone under the age of 65.
The realization that I was wearing granny panties and not going on a trek to Mt. Rainier, and that I had been stuck in the same panty rut for more years than I cared to remember was enough for me to take my over-fabriced ass to the mall. Little did I know the cumbersome task I was about to partake in.
As a girl who has always been “a bit roomy in the hips”, covering my lower extremities has posed a challenge in our stick figure/skeletal chic-obsessed society. I don’t enjoy shopping for anything that has to cover the area from my mid-section to my ankles. Jeans, skirts, nylons, you name it, if it has to be pulled over my legs and ass; it’s not a joyous day in Mudville.
I thought underwear would be a no-brainer until I found myself staring, glassy-eyed at an enormous wall of panties. There were tons of different styles, sizes, colors, and materials. Much like a coward who feels the need to apologize for cartoons they had no part in creating, I wanted to retreat to my familiar hi-cut brief standby. I’m even ashamed to say that I grabbed three pairs of briefs decorated with bright flowers, but I stopped myself somewhere in the strapless bra aisle. I came for a new style of undie, and I wasn’t leaving until I had it!
Boy shorts have become quite popular. Basically these are underwear that hug your hips, and forego the elastic contouring around the ass. They looked really cute on the cream-colored torsos modeling the panties on the top shelf of the enormous panty wall, but when I tried to imagine them stretching across my bubble butt, the pleasantness didn’t translate all that well. I skipped past the thongs simply based on principle. As humans have evolved, we’ve modified our walk to keep our underwear out of our ass, so why would we want a thick, elastic strip riding high? This is a bridge we should have crossed years ago.
Bikinis are a consideration, but I wondered how comfortable they would be. As someone who has enjoyed the massive coverage provided by granny panties, could I transition to something cute and small with a tremendous lack of material? The bad part about choosing underwear is that it’s a crap shoot (sorry for the tasteless pun). You can’t try underwear on before you buy it, so you just have to examine it closely, be realistic about your body, and take a chance.
It took me two hours to shop for new underwear, how pathetic is that! I walked out with four new pairs, and hurried home to try them on. Jeff was there waiting with a smile, but like any woman who has to keep the façade of always looking fabulous going strong, I made him wait in the other room. The two pairs of low cut, somewhat boyshort style panties looked ridiculous. Thankfully, they were on clearance, so I relegated them to the short, top drawer of the dresser, perhaps I’ll break them out once I get down to my goal weight, or save up enough for liposuction. The bikini style looked far better and fit very well. I wore them, Jeff liked them, and this weekend, I’ll venture back to the enormous panty wall to buy a few more pair in a variety of colors.
Panty shopping is not for the weak, and although I was elated about my need for new underwear, changing styles was more than I bargained for. I’m happy I did it, because it helped break me out of a fashion rut. Of course it’s a rut no one would ever know about except my husband, and frankly the only time he ever cares about my underwear is when I’m in the process of taking them off.
3 comments:
I am surprised to go from your great blog on Betty Friedan and then read your (to me) misogynist rant about panties and losing weight, like being overweight after having a child, or any other time for that matter is something to be ashamed of, and that "granny panties" are too. What the hell are you doing shopping at f*%$ing Victoria's Secret anyway? God, if there is a less feminist place to shop, let me know. Going on about your need for your husband to only view you in some state of feminine perfection was also so girly it gagged me. I thought we were supposed to be empowered, and here you are still catering to your husbands taste in your underwear. Why not go shopping at some whatever store and get the panties that are comfortable and save the "sexy" undies for play time. God, and the next time you see a Victoria's Secret commercial, watch it from my four and eight year old daughters point of view, and think about whether you really want to support them with your feminist dollars. Sorry to be harsh, I'm not usually, but I clicked to read a feminist punk rockers writing, and this sure as hell did not read as such.
The majority of the negative self-judgement, on my part, is that which I put on myself. I do that with everything, because we are our own worst critics.
As for wanting to look good naked, and not wanting to wear underwear that my mother-in-law wouldn't be caught dead in, what's wrong with that? I'm the only qualifier of what looks sexy on me. My husband is as happy with me now as he was with me right after I had my baby, so it's not like he's telling me what to wear or that I need improvement, that comes 100% from me.
As for shopping at Victoria's Secret, at their bi-yearly sale, they have the cheapest underwear (even beats out Costco). I look at their commercials and think that they are laughable and ridiculous. Those broads are like 10' tall and have a mile of torso. They always look like someone just called them a cunt, and they are really sick of standing in those 5" spike heels.
There's nothing wrong with wanting your spouse to find you attractive, that's how you keep your marriage exciting, which is no small feat.
My ultimate quest in the great undie hunt is to find comfortable underwear that make me look sexy, are fairly reasonable priced, and are unmentionables that I feel proud to sport.
Melanie,
First of all, thank you for even responding to my comment, which was, by my own admission, rather harsh.
What I still find disturbing about your whole blog is that while you attribute your negative feelings about your body and your need to "like any other woman" keep up a "facade" for their man of always looking incredible is that IT DOES NOT come "100%" from yourself, as you claim in your response to me. It is informed and influenced by having grown up in this misogynistic culture that we live in. Even if you are writing in the first person about yourself, any one reading it is influenced by your saying that a measure of "self esteem had returned" to "your universe" because you lost weight. Later you even reference a potential need to spend money on liposuction to further enhance your appearance in your undies.
All of that just perpetuates and reinforces our cultures message that a woman should spend her time obsessing over her body image and her appeal to her man. Yes, of course we all want to remain sexually appealing to our mates, but to not let him see you get dressed because of your need to ONLY have him see you looking like your "facade" enables you to, is sad and strikes me as unhealthy.
Your life is your life, and it only starts becoming something I have an opinion about when I read about it in a place that I thought was a Feminist site, and not somewhere I would read the same globbish guck about wrestling with our own self loathing that I could find in any "women's" magazine at my local book chain.
As to Victoria's Secret, those commercials may seem laughable to you now, but wait until Rachel is a little older and comes home from a first grade class where kids are already callling each other "fat" and girls are already obsessing over their appearance, and you may look at them differently. Advertisement for this company is so subversive and pervasive that is oozes through our pores, even as we mean to ignore it, dismiss it, or even poke fun at it. I have been watching the news with my family and seen the glazed over fixated look that appears in my daughters eyes when a Victoria's Secret commercial comes on. It's like she's mesmerized and is studying a blueprint for the future. So, of course I talk with her about it, but it's just nothing less than goosebumpy disturbing to see the reaction the commercial elicits. Yeah, I could turn off the T.V. but then we'd just be barraged by the print version, the billboards, and the store itself, which is located directly across from the toy store in the mall.
In your more recent column you talk about being willing to spend more to support local businesses and discourage chains from overtaking the land. Well, so that means you CAN afford underwear sometime and somewhere else other than the semi-annual clearance sale at V.S. So this does still come down to your choosing to spend your feminist dollars at Victoria's Secret, a company which in mine and many feminist's opinions is oppressive to women and negatively affects the self esteem of girls and women.
I don't mean to harsh on you personally Melanie, you are an interersting writer, but when you write for a public forum, especially one that is feminist, I just think you need to take a deeper look at what you've written, and think about what you are projecting to your fellow Hip Mamas.
Respectfully,
Michele
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