Small but important

Everyone has one. You might not be able to think of it off the top of your head but you would definitely know it if you saw it. You have a complicated relationship because you strongly dislike it but it’s always there for you when you need it (which is not often, but when it happens it’s important).

I’m talking about your absolute-last-resort pair of underwear. This pair of underwear, without question, is the worst pair you own. Not only is it uncomfortable, it also fits terribly. Loose in some places and tight in others. You catch a glimpse of it at the bottom of the drawer or basket where you keep it next to the top tier paris – the ones you do laundry for, the ones you grab and don’t hesitate to put on. You have a seemingly endless supply of these.

Then, you have a really busy week and a half and you’ve not only gone through your full briefs but also your thongs, even the mildly uncomfortable ones. You have one choice. It’s this pair or no pair. And you remember that you once got a UTI after galavanting around the city while going commando in jeans last summer so you wouldn’t dare do that again. 

You look at them. You eventually decide you must put one leg in and then the other.

For me, the worst pair of underwear I own is from a different era of my life. The Victoria’s Secret era, which lasted a solid decade from age 15 to 25. I didn’t have the highest standards for my underwear back then and I bought thongs almost exclusively. I had no idea that in my mid-20s, I would grow to appreciate panty lines and even find them sexy. I would buy 5 thongs for $25–a real good value! Usually it was hard to find 5 pairs to buy because they offered some of the ugliest shit I’ve ever seen.

just a small sampling. I don’t own any of these!

just a small sampling. I don’t own any of these!

The worst pair of underwear I own is this.

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Neon green, lace waistband. The “boddess” (we’ll call it) is white–never not a mistake and honestly should be illegal. There are pineapples. But these aren’t just any pineapples. These are pineapples… wearing… sunglasses. Because what if they encounter the sun?! They need to be protected. What if they’re out for a drive and the glare on the road is bad? Or they go to the beach?? The sunglasses are essential. There’s also some brown stains from getting my period while wearing this particular pair of underwear. I’ve gotten better about not staining my undies (read: only buy dark ones and then get an IUD so you don’t get a period anymore).

This pair truly an artifact of a former me. They are the very last pair of underwear I go for because whenever I wear them, I spend most of the day pulling them up and out of my asshole at the same time. The “coverage” in the front is relatively non-existent. The surface area of the fabric is about 2 inches by 1 inch (so whatever that would be. I forget the formula for surface area. I’ll ask my sister).

Why don’t I just get rid of this pair of underwear and then my next last pair might be something less horrendous? I don’t know. I guess whenever these start to surface in my basket full of underwear, it’s the like water level indicator on a pool. It lets me know that it’s time to refill her. Or maybe I like holding onto a piece of clothing that doesn’t take up much space and reminds me of my early 20s, when all I needed was 2 inches of fabric to cover my entire pelvis, labia, vagina, and butt hole. I wouldn’t go back but that was a nice time.