Tag Archive | fashion

Oh, look- under there. Under where? Haha, made you say underwear!!

Okay, this is not a little boy’s blog about underwear. Let’s get serious here folks. (snort laughter) I mean, if it were up to my 3rd grade son to write a blog about underwear, it would be all about why underwear should have pockets. Yes… I’ll leave you with that bit of geniusness.

Moving on…

Undergarments. Yay or nay? I love my undergarments. But I found out (dun da dun) not everyone does!! Some of my friends don’t even wear underwear!! EWW!! So I’ve decided to compile four groups of women and their philosophies about undergarments. I am using the Mad Men ladies to illustrate my point. I mean, because… well, why not??!! They are fine ladies and back then in the 60s, fashion was really going through a lot of changes. But I will also sort of use a time machine to introduce things like thongs and SPANX. Since they didn’t have those back then. They still wore belts with their feminine products for crying out loud!

Here goes:

We have:

Betty

Joan

Trudy

Peggy

Then we have our undergarment categories:

Commando (that’s no underwear, BTW)

Thong

Granny brief

Boy short with lace

Here is how I think the girls match up to the underwear or lack of.  Decide who you match up with in YOUR undergarment preferences. Can you guess who I am?

Joan- Commando. This girl is not to be bothered with visible panty lines or any extra fabric for that matter. She wears SPANX slips under her pencil skirts and cocktail dresses. She is sleek and smooth. On weekends, she wears peddle pushers and silk negligees. Commando. Totally. She is fearless and knows her shit. This girl would not be caught dead in yoga pants or anything else like from our time. And she would NEVER let her man see her stuff herself into her SPANX either. (ahem, nothing to see here, move along. NOT that I’VE done that, oh no. Maybe once.)

This is oh so Joanie. AND it still allows for Commando.

Betty- Thong. She is stuck in the middle. She probably would love to go Commando but thinks it would be unsanitary. She doesn’t want to soil more garments than she should. And she’s such a twig she doesn’t need the support of any garments to hold in flab.  She opts for zero panty lines, but with some crotch coverage, just in case, for you know, female stuff.

We're not talking G-string here. Still demure enough for Betty.

Peggy- Granny briefs. Peggy’s strict Catholic upbringing has instilled in her that good girls wear ginormous underwear. She likes the security it gives her. Girdles and support hose will help with the panty lines. She needs coverage all the time, 24/7. Despite her struggles to be ‘one of the guys’ at the office professionally, she still asserts her feminine side and isn’t shy of feeling sexy, despite the granny pants she has underneath her pencil skirt. She’s uber confident that way.

Comfortable and soft. Perfect for Peggy types.

Trudy- Boy shorts with lace. Trudy is complex. She wants everything without coming across needy, bitchy or slutty. Comfort, no panty lines, sex appeal, coverage. She’s not just a little housewife. She needs to keep her husband interested. She needs to know that in case of an emergency she’ll have coverage where she needs it. (What emergency? you ask.) Well, like what if she sneezes and looses a little bladder control. It’s not her fault she doesn’t know what kegels are.

Comfy AND alluring, dontcha think?

NO! Not THAT type of thong people!!

So there you have it.

My underwear philosophies. To each her own, right?

From Corsets to Yoga pants; face it- we’ve all given up.

Have you noticed something? I mean, it’s not news or anything. We’re fat. Americans are fat. Okay we get it. But how in THEE hell did this happen?? (Rhetorical question, don’t really answer it, just play along okay?)

We are wearing tracksuits and yoga pants every damn day, and we just get fatter, and fatter….

We went from corsets, girdles and garters, to just garters, to women’s lib bra burning to sports bras, miracle bras, wonderbras… SPANX and dundadddaaa— Yoga Pants!!

We Americans wear our fitness gear ALL the time. We wear Yoga pants and don’t do yoga. We wear sweat pants and haven’t sweated.

We wear track suits and don’t go to the track. And yet…we got bigger, and bigger, and bigger! We should be a super elite society of athletes. But NO! We are a lazy bunch of couch potato, Wal-mart shopper, Frappachilly swirl shake drinking slobs! Pathetic I say! Pathetic!

Yes- I’m wearing Lululemon lounge pants as I write this. Because dammit, I am lazy. I don’t want to get up and put on control top hose, heels and pearls to do housework. How the hell did Donna Reed do that??

She's saying, 'oh look, I'm all dressed up to do the dishes.'

We went from wearing the most uncomfortable clothes, being thin, small-boned, floor scrubbing (unless you lived in the south, then your maid did all that for you) to having freedom, comfort, Lycra, and doing….nothing.

Okay- hold on to your Hanes Her Ways right there. Don’t get them all in a bunch. I am not here to say we are lazy. Not all of us. Just some of us. And me. I’m lazy. I admit this. I know we work hard. We raise our kids, work outside the home, volunteer with PTA, carpool, shop for organic groceries at Whole Foods, go to book club, wine club, Bunco club, church, Bible study. WE are soooooo busy!!

Do you see where I’m going with this? Simple equation- corsets, delicate ladies, tiny waists- fast forward 80 years- Lycra, elastic waists, knits = FAT ASS. Even our feet are getting bigger. Have you looked at vintage shoes? My feet are like a Chinese basketballs player’s foot compared to the ladies of our grandmother’s generation or before that.

Let's go run and get smoothies! -What I can't hear you my track suit makes this loud rustling sound!

I’m not making any scientific revelations here. I have no data to back anything up. This is just my opinion (cough <<bullshit>> cough).

What happened?

I remember a Seinfeld episode when George said if a man leaves his house in sweat pants he’s given up on the world. People? Have we given up?

I’m not saying pearls and hats and gloves, but how about  we go to work out in the work out attire, and then wear normal clothes in public? At least try?

Okay, I will. Just let me finish this Cinnabon here and my Starbucks and I’ll get right on that.