We all wear it. There are so many different types for us girls.
I fear I have become the female, non-religious version of the Father Ted episode when the Priests get lost in the undies section of a department store.
I'm ashamed to admit I fall into the category of "Mumsy". You know the sort of thing, you may even be a sufferer of Mumsy underwear yourself.
Nothing matches, everything is old. My bras either half fit in the sense they are slightly too small (the pre-breast feeding ones) or too big (the God knows what my size is now, I buy the same everywhere, but they never fit properly ones). A few have the added issue of the under wire poking through. Bend over and ouch. I do own some nicer "smaller" pants, but these are pre-children (and big bottom/cellulite) and I never wore jeans tight enough back then to constitute the annoyance and pain of the curse of "pant wedge," associated with string like underwear.
The other undies in my draw are not of the fancy persuasion. My tights (that should be tight. I have one pair), have a ladder. I own no stockings, and the one pair I did once own were used in a filter coffee machine, run out of filters-have hangover-need caffeine situation in 2005.
This is nothing new. I have never been flimsy, fancy girl.
In much the same way as, for me, the purchasing of glasses is something I do purely to avoid blindness, the buying of underwear is so certain parts of the anatomy are covered. I hate bras, they annoy me, but I wear them as I really don't think they'd be anymore attractive, my bosoms, if they were on my knees in old age. Or sooner. Such is my fear of the "two ping pong balls in a pair of socks" look, I wear a bra in bed. Really.
My method is this-I literally go in, spot a bra, spot my (possible) size, buy it, go home. Job done.
I buy multi-packs of plain black pants. At least I have outgrown "cute" "novelty" pants. I used to buy those up until I was 24, with cartoon dogs and the like on. Until I remembered I was no longer 6.
Elder is taking me out, all night, for my birthday. Including staying in what is a very posh hotel opposite Windsor Castle. He first took me for lunch there when I was 19, and says he still remembers the shock on my face at how posh it was. The waiter brought a bottle of wine over, and poured a little into my glass. Uneducated 19 year old me thought he was being stingy, but he wanted me to approve the wine. I was clueless and Elder had to tell me what was going on. I think the chippy was my idea of a restaurant back then!
So, I have bought myself a nice new top, a pair of jeans, and plan to look rather dolled up in general. We're also going to a trendy bar/restaurant where his friend, Steve Procter, is doing a funky old school house set. I really want to look nice.
Which made me think.
This is one of those very few times when we will get adult time, whereby a child doesn't come and get in bed and demand cuddles. And if my clothes are all shiny and spanking new, my old, greying, mis-matched undies are going to stick out.
I have therefore been on an underwear hunt.
My word, if you need a giggle go look on their underwear sales bit. There are people who sell pants on there. Worn pants. The mind boggles. There are some very weird types on there too- like repro Victorian Bloomers. I can just imagine Elder's face if I had those on under my jeans. And things which look like Jordan would turn them down for being too revealing.
I have obviously led a very sheltered life indeed.
I have braved the shops. No luck.
I am on the verge of looking in (wait for it)....
The problem is I associate them with granny pants. Which whilst it would solve the Mumsy pants look, I don't want to go from Mumsy to Granny.
And despite what Helen Fielding led us to believe in Bridget Jones, granny pants are so not nice or attractive.
I am lost. I have been exposed to different fabrics, styles, types. Naughty, pretty, serviceable, and really really scarily expensive. But I am still clueless.
I have started by removing everything old, non-fitting, nasty looking or rubbish out of my undies draw. Which has left me with 3 bras and 7 pairs of pants. I do have loads of socks though.
I think I am definitely a socks person.
Suggestions, my wise friends, are most welcome.