Stick with the basics for undergarments
You think it’s easy to be a woman these days? It is not, and
I’ll tell you why. There are just too many darn choices in
everything.
Stick with the basics for undergarments
You think it’s easy to be a woman these days? It is not, and I’ll tell you why. There are just too many darn choices in everything.
Choice might be wonderful, but it’s also much more confusing and confounding.
Just visit the lingerie part of any department store, and you’ll see what I mean.
I went to JCPenney in Salinas the other day, looking for shorts for my son. There was a big sale going on and I was hunting for bargains. Unfortunately, I could not find the shorts I sought.
Then I looked at men’s shirts. Buy one at the regular price, get the second for 88 cents. The only problem was the first shirt was $56. I decided that was out of my price range and went on to other things.
So of course, when one finds oneself in a department store, and one can’t find what one wants, one starts thinking about what else one might like. And in my case, that was underwear.
It’s not like I’m an intimate apparel freak, but I was in need of panties to replace some that I have had for a few years. The elastic in them resembles limp pasta. There comes a time when underwear needs to be retired, and I had a few pairs at the point of no return.
So I went into the lingerie department and started looking at the sale table – the ones where you can get four pairs for $10, or whatever. I’d been meaning to spend, oh, say, no more than 10 minutes looking for underwear.
I was in there searching for at least a freaking hour. I kid you not.
And why, you ask? Because there was nothing in there I wanted to wear.
When it comes to underwear, my underwear needs are simple. Black, cotton, size 6, bikini. That’s it. That’s all I want.
In a store with hundreds or maybe even thousands of pairs of women’s panties, I couldn’t find any in the right size, color or composition.
This is what I mean when I say there are entirely too many choices.
Yes, there was underwear in abundance. There was satin underwear. Too slippery. There was underwear with lace. Too scratchy. There was polka-dotted underwear. Don’t need polka dots. There were boy shorts, boy-type, high-cut and thong. Don’t need these, either.
I absolutely, positively, do not do thongs. I won’t go into the details as to why.
It was insane to be in a huge area of underwear and not being able to find the right thing – which seemed such a simple set of requirements.
Black, cotton, size 6, bikini.
When I was growing up, there weren’t a lot of choices in underwear. It was pretty much all cotton, a few colors and florals, and pretty much in the granny panty vein. When bikini underwear came along in the 1970s, it was revolutionary. I guess I’ve been a fan ever since.
But then comes along all this other stuff, all of it what I don’t want, pushing out the stuff I do want.
Finally, on a bottom shelf, sort of tucked away, I finally found what I’d been searching for. Black, cotton, size 6, bikini. They were just right. I bought four pairs.
So finally, I did get what I wanted, after quite a lot of searching and swearing. All is well.
I’m just thankful I didn’t need to get any bras.
