Forget About Food, Today, I'm Thinking about Underwear

Yesterday I spent a lot of time thinking about underwear.

See, I have (now had) this pair of undies that I just love. I got them a few years ago now one day whilst shopping, (of all places) in the Dollarama. For those of you not familiar with the place, it's the kind of store that sells a million and one different Made in China, too-shitty-for-normal-stores type items. (I'm sure that no matter where you are in the world, you have a store just like it.)

Anyway, I come across these men's tightie-whities in a little box, emblazoned with a somewhat naughty picture of a hunky, hairy dude from the seventies in his drawers who appears to be smuggling grapes.

I don't know what posessed me to buy them, but I was in the midst of a "disagreement" with all my current undies and was ready for something different. (See, I have what would be called in polite circles "childbirthing hips." It's hard as hell not to find scanties that don't cut off your circulation when you sit down or wedge themselves up your ass when you go for a walk.)

So I bought them, and man, were they ever comfy. They may not have been the most feminine undergear I've ever owned, but most definitely the most likely to be chosen for a long day of hiking. (At least they didn't have a hole in the front for the weewee.) I don't know what Bob thought of them.....he actually never ventured a comment. I did however hope and pray that if I were ever to be in an accident, I'd happen to be wearing something slightly more girly.

ANWAY....what got me thinking about undies yesterday was the fact that my faves have finally given out on me. Every trip I made to the little girl's room yesterday resulted in me gradually ripping the waistband off little by little, that's how old and worn out these undies are. (You know that old joke about how men will let their underwear rot right off before they would ever buy new ones? Well, maybe I now know how they feel.) I tearfully resigned them to the garbage last night, but not before taking a moment to think back on all the fine times we had together.

I haven't always worn men's underwear, nor is that the only thing in my lingeries drawer. Let me tell you another underwear story....

The year is 1994, the time is Christmas. I haven't quite lost the whopping 60 pounds of weight I put on the year before while pregnant with my first child. Needless to say, I wasn't feeling all that attractive. We are just starting out, and money was tight. Leading up to Christmas, my husband kept alluding to this wonderful gift that he had ordered for me, and he really hoped it arrived in time. Christmas got closer and closer, and no gift arrived. (As it turns out, our beleagured credit card was over the limit and had been declined. But neither of us knew that at the time.)

Christmas came and went. I can't remember what Bob gave me that year, but he did say that the gift he had ordered "just didn't work out." He had learned by then that the credit card was maxed out, and the Special Gift was not to be. I forgot all about it.

Fast forward to February. I take my year-old daughter down to the post office through the snow to get the mail, and there is a large brown envelope in the box addressed to my husband, full of mysterious lumps and bumps. Nothing on the envelope indicated what it was or where it came from. My curiosity was in overdrive, but I don't open mail addressed to him, so I didn't touch it and waited for him to come home from work. When he saw the envelope, he was beside himself with glee. Turns out this was the "mystery gift" he was so wanted me to have for Christmas. (The company had continued to attempt to charge our credit card until the purchase went through.)

So I'm lovingly handed this envelope and asked to open it. (Don't forget, this is an ENVELOPE.)

I open it up, and inside was THREE COMPLETE OUTFITS from Fredericks of Hollywood.

Not just any outfits, but wild hooker-coloured outfits of red faux-velvet, and hot pink lace, and turquoise see through stuff. There was fake feathers, and ribbon ties over the boobies, and well... (blush) crotchless bits. Even for Frederick's of Hollywood, these were in bad taste, but I guess that's what men go for.

Needless to say, with my still pudgy baby-belly and oversized thighs, these were not something I could see myself parading around in. But I did. Because it was clear that despite all the flaws and imperfections that I could see in the mirror, he still thought I was sexy. So I sucked up my insecurities, and wore those outfits. Once each, and never since.

They still have a home, though, in my lingerie drawer, right beside my granny panties and my threadbare tightie-whities, just a reminder to never get too comfortable in my marriage, and never to forget there's at least one man in the world who finds me irresistable, flaws and all.

Have a great day folks, and Hey! Wear your best undies when you leave the house today! You never know when you're going to be in an accident.