I broke down and bought some granny panties the other day. By “granny panties,” I mean Fruit of the Loom 100% cotton briefs for ladies.
Sadly, they are incredibly comfortable. I bought the 6-pack “wardrobe,” which came with two in white and four IN COLOR. They are very bright and take some getting use to since I normally wear flesh-tone panties to match my flesh-tone bra so you never notice my underwear through my clothes.
In theory.
But now, NOW, I have panties in royal purple, bright yellow, polka dot, and yellow and blue flowers with pink and purple centers. I feel all little-girlie and special. I may go out and buy some footie pajamas next.
Oh wait, perhaps not the best choice for summertime in the San Joaquin Valley. Also, I had a pair as a kid and found it frustrating to have to take the whole thing off to pee. Most inconvenient, especially when half asleep in the middle of the night. Tip: Should you ever shop for footie pajamas, be sure to get the kind with a butt flap.
So the bad news is I now own cotton granny underpants. The good news is I finally know the correct panty size of my ass, if anything about an expanding backside can be considered good news.
But wait…OH MY GOD, I just realized I have fallen prey to The Beauty Myth. Dammit!
Okay, change of mindset here. A quote from the Urban Dictionary: I wear granny panties because I'd rather have baggy undies than a string in my ass.
That pretty much sums it up. From this point forward, I vow to happily and proudly wear comfortable, cotton briefs. Though I will no longer need to dig underwear out of my butt crack on a regular basis, should my comfortable, cotton briefs somehow find their way up there, I will simply reach around and tug them out, unhesitatingly, in public, with no regard for what bystanders may think of me.
I further resolve to wear short sleeves regardless of my less-than-Michelle-Obama-toned arms. I may even go sleeveless. My body is my body. Period.
It’s so liberating, this “I could give a crap” attitude!
Hey, déjà vu. I have had this attitude before. Hm…it went away for a while. Whatever dude, it’s back now and NEVER GOING AWAY AGAIN.
Must be all the endorphins from my regular exercise regime.
Next mission: to find an exercise bra that both fits and prevents bouncing while running yet does not require gymnastics to get on and off. Fact or fable?
