Rebellious Thoughts of a Woman

Since I’ve been thinking about panties lately (see “I Need a Diaper”) I figured that I might as well continue reflecting on them and the problems they are causing me.

What I want to know is why can’t I have a pantyline? Who decided that it’s unseemly to see the line of a woman’s undergarment through the fabric of her pants or dress or skirt? Are those the same people who brought us pants that accentuate the shape of a woman’s bottom and clingy fabrics that make it a near impossibility to wear undies without seeing that they’re there?

Why the need for pretense? Must we always pretend that we don’t need the accoutrements that we need? I never heard anyone complaining about a man’s undershirt being visible under his dress shirt. (I actually think it’s sexy in a good-boy sort of way.) So why do we need to pretend that we’re not walking around being held up and in in all sorts of ways?

Not surprisingly, the powers that be have given us tools to comply with the pretense. There is (thanks Brazil) the thong. Apparently there are a lot of women who like to live with a wedgie up their asses all day long. If I had one on I would move the string over, and what would you have, a sideways pantyline across one side of my bottom, not quite a dude magnet. [My older daughter, when she was about 12 and Victoria’s Secret (which just discovered the potential of the tween and teen market) introduced thongs for girls, bought a pair. (Finally, one example of when I mothered well.) I let her have it figuring that she would discover that underwear should be made out of fabric and not climbing rope. She did. We moved on without an argument.] They seem to work well with dresses and skirts, that is until the woman gets up and there is a new pleat in the back. But they’re definitely not working with pants—they seem to push the entire enterprise further up, for a full wedgie. Okay, point made.

Another invention, pantyhose with the built-in protection so you don’t need to wear undies. Come on, who are we kidding. If you buy your pantyhose under the assumption that you are smaller that you are (and who hasn’t?), then there will be a three inch gap between where you end and they begin, so you will still need your undies. And if you are feeling “bloated” and buy a larger size than you need, you will end up with stomach wrinkles, which is replacing one unseemly wardrobe malfunction with another.

And commando is just not an option (again, see “I Need a Diaper”).

And even the best Barely There briefs occasionally make their presence known. So what, I have to wear the modern day girdle (oh, sorry, I meant to say “shapewear”) to prevent any inconveniences to passersby? Give me a break. Those things are so uncomfortable: covering you from somewhere on your stomach to somewhere on your thighs. Which, in essence, means that to prevent having a pantyline you have committed your body to it’s own personal torture chamber. (Do they use these at Guantanamo?)

At this point all I have left to say is this: Men, deal! And women: woman’s liberation, remember the 60’s and bras being burned? How could we do this to ourselves again? ?I’m doing my part by saying yes to the pantyline!

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