I was thinking about what to write today, something light hearted before the end of Christmas blues hit us and we all go back to “real life”. For some reason my mind wandered to my cat suit catastrophe which in turn reminded me of the corset (that’s a whole blog in itself) which then made me think Lingerie. I’m probably selling myself as a bit of a nymphomaniac here with a penchant for dodgy outfits but….. in my defense it’s supposed to make you smile, there’s nothing funnier than reading about other peoples bedroom failures, lets be honest I’m sure we have all bought one “thing” confined to the back of the wardrobe that only ever comes out when your very, very drunk, or makes you wake up in the middle of the night in a blind panic thinking “We didn’t send “that” to the charity shop,did we?!”
So lingerie it is. I wonder who invented lingerie (yes I could google but it’s a rhetorical question) and who exactly did they have in mind when coming up with said invention. Not me after thirteen children I can tell you.
When I think about it the inventor of the “big knicker” is my friend, this person clearly had women with a bit of a tummy,who aren’t that keen on the gym in mind. The big knicker is amazing, cue a huge “Merci” to Bridget Jones for getting it rolled out to the masses, there is many an occasion when I send a silent prayer of gratitude Ms Jones’s way on a night out. The big knicker is sturdy, holds you in, in all the right places and even better doesn’t distribute the “wobbly bits” elsewhere, it just sort of pushes them into your middle where they stay all evening! Your practically bullet proof. If the evening turns a bit rowdy and somebody throws a punch at your midriff while your wearing your Bridget Jones tribute pants I don’t fancy their chances. Wear those and you feel invincible. You even manage to forget that you can’t breathe very well while their on, genius! Top tip and I can’t remember if I read it or it came to me while watching Superman but, if you put the knickers over your tights its a double bubble of happiness, no having to spend all night hoiking them up from round your ankles plus you have a flat tummy. It’s a win, win situation.
The only draw back with the big knicker (especially the sort of ones that go down to your knees) is getting them off again, that’s a two man job (at least) and not that easy when you’ve had a couple of drinks. Sleeping in them is something I have never risked, I’m sure there is only so long you should wear them before allowing your circulation to return to normal. The other is going to the loo, but I shall leave that to your imagination.
While the big knicker serves a purpose for women of all shapes and sizes, teeny tiny lacy bras, g-strings which resemble dental floss and bits of feathery fluff stuff stuck to underwear in strategic places baffle me. Why??? Its great if you have the body of a twenty year old or you are a twenty year old, lacy dental floss was invented for you. Once you get to a certain age , (actually correction once your body goes a certain way) the dental floss can get lost in a crevice and instead of looking all “femme fatal” you spend half an hour trying to find it! #passionkiller. Lacy bras are itchy especially if you put one on after a bath (makes my teeth go funny) and while suspenders have a function (for those of us that like a stocking) they do look better on a toned leg.
I am not knocking “real women” here, I am one….that’s the problem. I see lingerie on the models and in my head I become that model. At no other point in my life does this happen, I never look at a skin tight leopard print dress in crushed velvet and think (“I might give that a go, team it with heels and there’s one for gardening club”) so why when it comes to all thing silky and lacy do I channel my inner Cyndi Crawford?
While we’re at it why is most lingerie made from silk? I look like the Pillsbury dough man in a silk nightie, it clings to all the wrong places, not a good look when I’m trying to think “Mrs Robinson” but find myself reaching for my big knickers to flatter the nightie. Talk about kill the moment especially as it takes about eight people to get them off again!
For us women who are bobbing along happily in our lives, while now and again dipping into the world of “ooh la la” to spice up whatever needs spicing up lingerie is a minefield and, after a trip to Agent provocateur I always feel the need to go to the gym for twenty seven years before entering the shop again. Its so stressful I have to have a krispy Kreme to cheer myself up.
If it’s bad for us our poor partners can’t get it right either, strangely The husband has the same problem as I do when he buys lingerie,he must focus on the model cos he certainly doesn’t see “me” when he comes home with “The Box”. If by some miracle that is how he sees me I can honestly say that love in his case is totally blind and long may it last. I for one am not encouraging him to have an eye test!
Normally the stuff (and I say “they” here because The Husband may well divorce me after reading this and I don’t want him to feel singled out) they buy is a bonkers colour with bits missing (use your imagination) complete with fluff,( it’s for the bedroom people, he has great taste in candles) and to top it all covered in a ridiculous pattern. That seems to be the law of lingerie buying for partners. Maybe the sales assistants see them coming and think, “that stock that’s been here circa 1984 just found the perfect victim coming through the door now.” The poor blokes are so overcome by the moment they will buy anything. Its one theory, either that or in my case The Husband has a shocking taste in underwear.
To be honest none of that bothers me its……………………………. THE SIZE! That’s where it can all go horribly wrong, too big and its “So you think I’m fat do you?” cue stropping off to the bathroom slamming the door and crying. Too small and it’s “So you wish I was a size zero do you? I knew it”. Cue stropping off to the bathroom door slamming and crying. For some reason he never gets the right size or if he does I’m never comfortable in it so, technically it’s still wrong. We can stop speaking for weeks all cos of a lacy bra and an ostrich feather! He knows I like a big knicker but values his life so would never get me those. Oh the things one could read into holdy inny pants as a gift.
Needless to say he doesn’t really buy me lingerie anymore its safer that way. For the record he has never got it wrong with a Jo Malone candle and on that basis we have stayed married for twenty six years…..just! I will tell you about the corset one day, now that nearly did cause a divorce.