It occurred to me, while de-cluttering my Master Closet, that the process of sifting through my underwear drawer is a bit like taking a walk down memory lane. My whole closet is, in fact, a collection of items spanning the decades from the glory days of youth and physical fitness to the present day of motherhood, middle age and moderate activity. Why do I cling to these vestiges of days past? Surely not in the hope of wearing any of them again as styles have changed and my requirements have, shall we say, expanded? Let’s face it, when your measurements have grown from an hour-glass proportion to resembling the shape of an unopened frozen beer can, it’s time to part with the size “s” thongs.
It occurred to me, while de-cluttering my Master Closet, that the process of sifting through my underwear drawer is a bit like taking a walk down memory lane. My whole closet is, in fact, a collection of items spanning the decades from the glory days of youth and physical fitness to the present day of motherhood, middle age and moderate activity. Why do I cling to these vestiges of days past? Surely not in the hope of wearing any of them again as styles have changed and my requirements have, shall we say, expanded? Let’s face it, when your measurements have grown from an hour-glass proportion to resembling the shape of an unopened frozen beer can, it’s time to part with the size “s” thongs.
In fact, I think I’m going to make a memory book in panties.
Present day and at the top of the drawer we find the no-nonsense, white cotton briefs. These are roomy and comfortable; the ones with holes or over-stretched elastic are strictly for lounging at home. Mother always said you don’t want to be caught unconscious with ripped unmentionables. Never mind the fact that, if I really were caught unconscious, my underpants would probably be soaked with pee.
Pregnant days and a little bit lower in the drawer. Ah, yes, 2 pairs of maternity briefs. I wouldn’t classify these as panties. Nope these are bloomers. Granny pants. Dare I admit that I still wear these on rare occasion? Shhh.
B.C. (Before Children) days and still further down. Oh, I remember these. The lacy camisoles and panty/bra sets from the days when I actually felt like a woman! Sorry Chuck.
Newlywed days, scratching the bottom. Ah yes, the wedding garter, a corset and a strapless push-up bra. Keep because they’re special and, who knows? Atkins, South Beach, that full body liposuction that I’m saving for? We might renew our vows one day.
B.B.C. (Before Becoming Christian) and waaaaay at the bottom: Yikes! Was this even comfortable? Where’s the…oh, tee-hee, never mind, it was made like that. Really sorry, Chuck.