It was Saturday. No work, no kids, no designing for my line. I had a few hours to kill. So I treated myself to some new underwear. I know, totally indulgent. I headed to Nordstroms b/c it always makes me feel so upscale and classy. I was immediately drawn to a pair of Spanx shorts. Not cheeky boy shorts. I’m talking straight up "mid-thigh smoothers". I was dancing in my skin just thinking about how comfy they were gonna feel. I started loading up on them, 2 in every color when I realized…
This is one step away from a Granny Panty!
Ugh! Don’t let it be so! I’m 43 and thought I’d be rocking a lacey thong for at least another decade. But I just could not pull myself away. I was hoping the salesgirl would see me and distract me, or I’d bump into someone I knew and it would embarrass me into a sexier section. But it didn’t happen. It was just me and the smoothers.
What would you buy if you knew no one would ever have to see?
Yep, me, too. So I added the matching training bra-style “undershirts” to my stash and headed to the register. I mean, if I’m gonna be that comfortable on the bottom, I might as well free up the top as well. As I stood at the register watching the sexy 20-something salesgirl ring up and carefully fold my stuff, my life in underwear flashed before my eyes. You know, like how they say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die? Yes, that. It went like this:
20’s: Less was more. The Victoria’s Secret V-String panty. A brightly colored triangle held on by a thread. I was all about feeling my inner “angel”. (Yeah, I know what it sounds like. Get your head out of the gutter). I sported that Very Sexy Push-up Bra, too.
Early 30’s: Hanky Panky’s low rise thong. I was working my hustle and feeling like a badass boss, kicking butt daily in a lace thong and 4” stillettos.
Late 30’s: Business was booming and so was I. Wacoal’s “b-fitting” one-size-fits-all thong. Practical, you know, cotton crotch and all. Still thongs, but with the occasional bikini brief thrown in… Just in case I felt like I needed a break.
So there I was, 43, rockin’ out all cool in my sensible shopping sneakers and no-show peds, about to swipe my credit card when panic set in. I dashed off, grabbed 2 pair of lacey thongs and the first sheer, mesh, strappy thong bodysuit thingy I could find and slammed it down on the cashier counter like I meant business. Granny panties may be coming up on the horizon, but I am NOT going down without a fight!