Mentioning the Un-Mentionables

As a child, my grandmother called them your unmentionables. Later she'd call them panties, underwear, drawers, draws, skins, and a plethora of other nouns. I like to call them unnecessary, but there are occasions when it is inappropriate to just lie around the house without them. Unless you are from a third-world country or a resident in an assisted living facility, you should not have draws hanging around like the above photo.
There is a place for everything, and NO ONE WANTS TO SEE YOUR draws blowing in the wind.

I recently saw 6-week panties at Gander for $18 a pair. The concept is that (hopefully) you buy two pair, go on that long hike, bike ride, camping trip, etc and you wear a pair, in the evening wash said pair out and put on second pair while the first day's product in its anti-bacterial form corrects itself. Wonder how long you could wear them with their dissolving? Someone try them and let me know.

Now, look, you naysayers, I can appreciate a nice, tight ass. Hell, I'd probably trade a little toe (maybe a ring finger) for a forever tight ass. (Yo, Genie, no tradesies and then I get the old girl back in the fine print).

If you have a tight, fit and firm ass, by all means, let that girl out. Let your freak flag fly. HOWEVER, most of the women I have contact with do not fall into said category. For these ladies, I ask, please, for the love of all that is holy, KEEP THAT SHIT PUT UP. I don't want to see your draws.

The point of my rant is that today I had occasion to shop for some run-of-the-mill, not getting my freak flag on unmentionables. I saw big panties, little panties, thongs, boy shorts, bikinis, boxer briefs. I saw some that said Love and peace and Go Team, butterflies, every geometric shape known to Sheldon Cooper and the list goes on and on.

Here is my beef: Even as a middle-aged woman who is not looking for panties with Tweetie Bird, I also don't want panties that scream "Just-Brought-My-Baby-Home-From-The-Hospital" pink or blue either. I don't want panties that look like the tablecloth my grandma saved for the occasional family gathering, or her nightgown, or the cloth that covered that little round table in the corner of the living room and had fake plastic flowers in a vase. If Avon sells it, I DON'T WANT IT.  To you vendors in New Delhi who are making these calls: WE DON'T WANT THE SAME PATTERN OF PANTIES THAT YOU USE ON KITCHEN RUGS.

Let's see if we can't narrow this down to black, white, nude. Throw a red or hot pink in there if you want...or a nice charcoal. But let's limit the cartoon bullshit to children's section. No real man wants to open the golden gates to heaven and see pantie with a fucking daisy on them. It's a turnoff for all involved. Mickey isn't who you want your partner thinking about during sex.

(As a caveat, should you be a fan of the baby pink/baby blue panties, Google a site for you to meet others like you. In due time, the GIG will have a phone number you can call and for $9.99 a minute you can tell an English-speaking American man/woman all about your panty fetish. We'll keep you posted. Until then, if you're not getting laid, now you have some insight into why. If you are getting laid, that is great that you've met someone just like you. You're soulmates. Hope it lasts forever....but have a financial backup plan for when he learns to use the Net and finds hot women online WITHOUT the panties of an 8-year-old.) You've been warned.