Nothing to See Here…

Posted By JustLinda on February 11, 2010

It must be SO simple to be a man.  Their lives just seem so uncomplicated.  They don’t have the cyclical cycles that are all cycley and stuff.  They don’t have the ebbing and flowing of hormones; evil, horrible hormones.  They have considerably fewer potions and lotions and goop.

And the whole underwear situation seems so very straight-forward if you’re a man.

I mean, really.  It’s, like, what… boxers or briefs.  Dark blue or grey or white.  And the size is just pretty much the same waist size they use for their bluejeans.  How simple is that?  They hardly even need to think to buy and manage their underwear.  (Which is a good thing, really, for reasons I shan’t go into here…)

If I were a man, I could totally get dressed in the dark – just reach there into that underwear drawer and grab a pair without even looking.  It would be that simple.

I mean, geez – the whole design of them is about ease of use and simplicity.  “Here’s an idea – let’s cut a slot in the fabric right here in front so they don’t even need to pull them down.  That’s way too much to expect of them.  These men, they are simple creatures.  Let’s make it so they can just lob it out there while they stand up.  Easy-peasy.  And then let’s give them a recliner with a built in beer fridge and a manly remote control.  They’ll love us!”

If you’re a woman, though, you have probably spent years perfecting your underwear management strategy.  Men probably don’t even HAVE a UMS.

It’s really more art than science, isn’t it?

There are just so many more considerations in women’s underwear management than in men’s.  First, the size issue – the sizes in our undergarments are different than the sizes of our outer garments.  Plus if you’re anywhere near the cusp between regular sizing and plus sizing, then you may need to know both of those sizes (which are different from your jeans size, dress size, etc.)

Many women maintain a multiple size rotation because, dammit, they WILL FIT BACK INTO THOSE SMALLER ONES EVENTUALLY.  This is why we need so much closet space and drawer space.  We’re still holding onto those size 7 Chic jeans we wore in high school because we’re convinced we will one day get back into them.  (Don’t you go bursting my bubble!!  All those styles from the 80s are back… I just need to lose these last 35 pounds and… aw, hell.)

Color is also much more complicated.  First of all, women’s underwear comes in a rainbow of colors!  Solids!  Patterns!  Different fabrics!  Do you choose the silky ones, or the kind that breathe. (Is anyone else creeped out by contemplating their underwear breathing?  No?  Just me?  OK, then.)   We have to decide whether we’re the type who has panties with matching bras.  We have to contemplate things like the abhorrent visible panty line and decide how to avoid that.

High cut! Bikini!  Boy-short!  Hipster!  Thong!  Brief!  All in an array of colors, patterns, and fabrics.

I mean, no wonder we’re so crabby.

If we can manage to choose the right underwear to keep in our dresser drawers, which is no small feat in itself, and assuming we were able to take a 2nd mortgage out to afford these under garments, then we must decide our in-house management model.  Which ones do we wear with our low-rise jeans?  (As if I have any low rise jeans.  Ha! I say HA HA.)  Which do we wear under our Spanx?  Do we wear any under our Spanx?  (No, really.  I’m asking because I have no clue what the protocol is here.)  Which do we wear during that special time of month – those days where we crown ourselves as the queens of generosity and humanity simply because we allow everyone who annoys us to live.  And let’s face it – they ALL annoy us then.  Do we risk the good ones during that special time of month, or do we risk the chance that we might get into an accident when we’re wearing sub-optimal under garments?  Do we match the underwear to the bra?
Decisions, decisions.

So let’s boil it down:

• The big, white, oh-my-god-was-I-ever-really-that-size underwear have been donated to the Mississippi River Regatta Club.  If you look really closely during their next race, you’ll see them hoist up the sails and you might say “Hey!  That used to be my underwear!”  You will vacillate between feeling proud and deeply embarrassed.
• The stuff that fits but where the elastic isn’t what it once was or slightly torn or slightly stained gets relegated to Special Time underwear, on its way to the garbage bin but good enough for some days.  Those days.  The days you want to send a message to people who may have access to see you in them.  These underwear say “I’m a woman on the edge.  I’m crazy.  I can’t be trusted to react rationally.  CAN’T YOU SEE I’M WEARING THESE CRAZY OLD FALLING APART UNDERWEAR?  Keep your distance.  You’ve been warned.”
• The pretty, sexy ones that have matching bras we save for those days we have appointments to see the doctor.  I mean, who else sees our underwear besides the doctor?  And we definitely want him or her to spread the word that we are the hip, pretty, coordinated type who wears awesome underwear with matching bras and they are in good shape with good elastic and no rips or tears or stains.  This is also the type of underwear you want to be wearing if you’re ever in an accident.  My advice to you is – during your special time of month, drive carefully.  You don’t want to get into an accident while you’re wearing your bad underwear.  The paramedics might blog about it and then – oh, god – how embarrassing!  In fact, you should just stay home then.  Maybe even never leave the bath tub.
• You must have some underwear that fit well and are solely for comfort – they are fugly to the Nth degree.  You wear these when you want to send a certain message to your husband.  “Siesta break – not open for business.  Check back in spring.”  It’s good to have underwear that communicates for you because then you never have to utter the words aloud and this gives you plausible deniability.  (THAT word is underlined in a red squiggly line.  Hmmm.)  “Honey, I never turned you away.  I was always there for you.  YOU CAN’T PROVE ANYTHING.  I don’t care what you think my underwear said to you – underwear don’t talk, ya crazy galoot!”
• Always have some the next size down.  Every once in awhile, take them out of the drawer and try them on.  If they fit, this gives you implicit permission to go spend a boatload of money for more new underwear in that size.  If they don’t fit, go have some Krispy Kremes, and remember, you also have plenty of bigger ones, too, that are a size up.  You deserve that doughnut, girl.  I don’t blame you one bit!  Have one for me, too.
• Which leads to my next point, always have some one size up.  Heck, have some two sizes up too.  You never know how many Krispy Kremes you might need to get you through the shock of the smaller ones not fitting.
• Lastly, always have a pair in the glove box of your car and in the very back of the bottom desk drawer at your office.  Just in case.  But fair warning – if you have some in the glove box of your car, don’t forget they are yours.  It would be quite embarrassing to confront your husband with “I found these in the car.  Whose are they, huh?  Do you have something to tell me?  YOU HAVE TO TAKE CUSTODY OF THE KIDS!!!” only to learn that they are yours and you’re the one who put them in there and, therefore, together the two of you will continue to have full custody of all the kids seven days a week.  (Hopefully he’ll be understanding of all this if you just explain to him how hard it is to be a woman.  Maybe even put on some of your special doctor’s appointment underwear just to make it up to him.  If he was real understanding about your mistake, hell, shave your legs too.)

I kid.  I kid.  Well, mostly I’m kidding.  OK, a few of those are slight exaggerations, but most of it is swear-on-the-bible true.  The women who read here – they know I’m telling the truth.

I have been faced with quite the underwear management challenge lately, what with all the weight loss and everything.  I have bought many new pairs of underwear, and eventually I’ll be able to repay those funds I borrowed from my 401K.  I have celebrated the disposal of the old stuff.  Bonfire of the underwear!  Hooray! I still have an array of sizes and some mornings, when laundry may be falling behind, I sit there trying to find a pair that will fit, not too big and not too small.  I’m like Baby Bear – I want some that are juuuuuuust right.  I have also bought an array of matching bra and underwear sets and I am feeling quite smarmy about it.  I’m waiting for Victoria’s Secret to call me up about a modeling contract.  (Well, hey, this writing thing isn’t amounting to a damn thing – I might as well sell my body if I can’t sell my mind, right?)  So far, Victoria hasn’t called me, however when I’m all matchy-matchy under my clothes, I feel like I have a wicked secret.  I like that feeling.  (Except now I’ve just told the whole Internet.  Well, those who read here, anyway.  So now it’s no longer a secret – now you BOTH know!)

It’s quite common that people will ask me “How are you?”  People ask this question of other people all the time.  It seems that regardless of how someone really is, they always answer “Fine.  I’m fine.”  They are usually lying.

What I’m suggestion here is an update to that approach, at least where women are concerned.  Instead of asking “How are you?” and getting a completely inane answer that doesn’t tell you what you need to know at all, why not ask her “What kind of underwear are you wearing today?”

If you survive the asking of that question at all, you will surely have enough information to conduct yourself accordingly.

Good luck with that.

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