liberté, levité et lingerie
July 10 My senses, starved of stimulation from the outside world, have become razor sharp.
Holed up, pent up inside the confines of my home as I convalesce, my perception, my extra sensory perception, has become tuned to frequencies rare and unheard by mere mortals.
I can't see dead people but I can hear my undies talking.
It is true, dear readers, and they're not happy.
Admittedly, the ones I'm wearing are rather gleeful, but the others left languishing in the drawer are quite another story...
I could hear them this morning, their rumbling, mumbling and mutineering literally rocking my boudoir as I polished the chest of drawers in which they lay.
While a handful on the top layer trilled and crooned, puffing out their little lingerie chests in song, it was clear that the majority were miserable.
I'm afraid it has been a while since I delved deep within the darkly delicious depths of my underwear drawer. And while nothing much seems to have changed on the surface, it seems obvious that there are lurking issues of discontent.
When last I had cause to investigate The State of The Knickers I related, to my enduring horror, that from a total of 94 pairs only 3 were being recycled regularly, gracing my pretty bottom with a relentless and tedious regularity. While there has been a rejuvenation, rampant and revitalizing, The Phoenix of Frivolity, Fluff and Frippery rising like a beacon from the discombobulation of my drawers, it appears that something else has reared it's head too.
It is ugly, It is green and It's name is Envy.
It appears, that following the introduction last week of three new pieces from the Elle McPherson Boudoir range, there has been jealousy and disgruntlement among the underpants.
With such a large number of them, those folded neatly down at the bottom and those lurking against the back of the drawer are increasingly concerned that they will never get to brush against the soft, smooth skin of my minxy derriere, never titillate my tender flesh with the tickle of their tendrilly lace, that they will be lost, their bawdy beauty hidden beneath layers of other more fanciable pants.
Indeed, there has been skirmish afoot of which I have been blithely unaware, until now.
"I still have my swing tag!"
cried one, a saucy pink and black lace cami-knicker creation, her long black satin ribbons dangling from the sides.
"I fear I shall never be worn!"
"Look at me! Look at me!"
squeaked another. "I've not been worn since 2004!"
Oh yes. I could see why. The beige microfibre thong, while serviceable, was thoroughly tedious and had outstayed her welcome a long time ago.
"Liberté, égalité, fraternité!"
came the cry of the French knickers, their united and guttural voices a melody against the stirring tunes of La Marseillaise, emanating deep beneath the g strings.
While it is true that the g's are a law unto themselves, I could see that unity and cohesion amongst the hoi polloi was in order. A truce would have to be called, demands met, compromises made in order to prevent total anarchy.
One can only imagine the horror of insurgent lingerie, truculent underpants and mutineering knickers.
The word Wedgie comes to mind in all it's polyester glory.
Oh, it is an inconceivable violation, perhaps the most hideous and vile discomfort for a Domestic Minx, Belle of the Boudoir and former Champion of the Frilly Knickers, to be set upon by a vengeful, hungry undergarment!
So we talked. We shuffled. We made a deal.
I agreed to the wearing of each one of them. Not all at once, of course. Not even two at a time. But I would wear one of them each day until all had enjoyed a turn adorning my fanciable arse. With 97 underpants to circulate, barring the acquisition of other luscious lingerie items, I should have completed Rotation One by November 14.
Upon my decree there was a cry of victory, the groundswell of emotion palpable for anyone in close proximity to the joyous scene which, sadly, was only me, my painkillers and my sharpened spider senses.
I could hear the strains of La Marseillaise rising once again from the French Quarter as I closed the drawer on their smug and smiling folded faces.
I clutched the pink and black lacy creation in my hand, the swing tag still attached and tangled in it's dangling beribboned sauciness.
And as I pulled the saucy soubrette over my derriere, I gave her a playful slap while she furnished me with a tickle.
And we laughed as I skipped from the room in joyful abandon, the glorious thrill of revolution, new knickers and Xanax lightening each step.
Oh, Dorothy Parker was only half right. Levity, indeed, is the soul of lingerie.
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Reader Comments (34)
97 for rotation?! wow, i truly am deficient in my undergarment department. i presume (from experience) it's of female nature to be so prolific with various wardrobe articles. as for myself, i'm happy with a week's worth of clean underwear and socks [pounding on his chest and mustering a primal shrek]
What undergarment wouldn't want to be pressed against your minxy form?
I, for one, would be grumbling if I'd been pushed to the back of the line.
There's something awfully sad about a pair of neglected underpants.
In reading your saucy post today inspired me to clean out my drawer of delectable unmentionables. With indescribible horror I found 5 pairs of granny panties that I promptly disposed of, 4 pair of lacy boyshorts, and 52 pair of assorted thongs mostly from my favorite haunt, Victoria's Secret. I am most proud of my wonderful drawer of naughty niceties however as a Yoga Instuctor and daily practitioner, many poses cause the flexible and bendable to chart a course through life COMMANDO. I fear my undies will never meet my tight yoga bum so I can imagine the same conversation is occurring in my little drawer of goodies as well. In honor of you Dear Minx and hoping for a speeeeedy recovery, I am wearing the hottest of the hot pink lacy thongs I could find and feeling randy and naughty all the same... what a role model you have become.... and Iam loving every minute of it! xxxxooooo kk
Number one: Only YOU could write something as magnificent as this about underwear.
Number two: Get the new ones (your unmentionables will work it out themselves)
Number three: I would revel in 97 pairs of panties, as opposed to my same 7. (wow I need to go shopping)
Number four: Please feel better. I know exactly how terrible it can be to be trapped in a house for tooooo many days in a row.
I think, darling Raffi, that it is not so much that you are deficient in the underwear department, but that I am obscenely over-indulged.
Even for someone as flamboyant as myself, the idea of 97 knickers is rather incredible. The fact that most of them have only been worn a couple of times is disturbing. I could probably get by with seven, like yourself...but they (not the beige microfibre thong) are so pretty, I simply cannot part with them!!
I will endeavour to keep my promise to each of them in turn!!
I had better! They will turn on me, I'm sure!!
xx
I'm afraid I am guilty of creating great disharmony amongst some of those who know me best, Eddie.
I sit in shame at my negligence and lack of empathy for my frilly friends...
There really is nothing more miserable than lingerie languishing in loneliness...
xx
when i read things like this,, which isn't often mind you,,, i cant help but feel as if i have evolved in the soft underbelly of life... not only have i never had more than well lets say 5 pairs of underwear... but never were, exactly that... underwear... never of the feminine lacy variety,, the only time i had clothes like that was when i was dancing,, and they were "costumes" not lingerie....i wanna be a girl some day.....
Your comment has left me in stitches, or nearly popping them at least, darling KimmyKat!!
I fear for the mental health of each and every one of your delicious knickers at the very mention of the word Commando. They must be heartbroken.
You may need to talk to them, perhaps make excuses to wear each of them in rapid succession. Indeed, they will mutiny like mine if they feel they are unloved.
Ah, the mention of hot pink lacy thongs has brought the colour to my cheeks already. My face is flushed as well!!
In honour of the imminent uprising I am sporting my pirate panties - black and white stripes with skull and crossbones on the tail end. An invigorating little number, I am inclined to buccaneer for the day!
From the helm of my sick bed at least!!
xoxoxox
Darling Meleah x
1. Years of experience in the understanding of underwear assisted by handfuls of mind altering drugs.
2. Fresh frilly knickers call to me like sirens.
I am helpless in the company of a new lingerie range.
3. 97 pairs is indeed ludicrous and OTT. A couple of months ago I went through an odd stage, wearing only 3, washing and wearing and recycling like a robot, never digging deeper than what my hand grabbed first on the pile. One probably needs only 7.
4. Thank you for your gentle wishes. You know what it is like to be confined...it is all a little claustrophobic after a while, although I have been grateful for the excuse to get out of strenous household tasks !!
xx
Darling Paisley,
I do find that the underwear thing seems to correlate directly to who one thinks might be looking at them.
They are a bit of a mood ring really...
If I am feeling a little light on, a little so-so, I choose my trusty Bonds, if I am going out at night I will choose something a little saucier, going shopping where there is the opportunity for my friends, or Mum, to check me out, I will wear matching Elles or Kylies or something equally fabulous...I'm a frightful show off, I know...
Darling, you are a girl of course and I think you are gorgeous! I would love to take you lingerie shopping!! I will buy you a fabulous pair of mushroom pink silk cami knickers trimmed with antique French lace and you can buy me a coffee!!
xx
My illustrious ms m... the brave pirate jack sparrow has just advised he is on his way to your flat to collect his GOLD. Baton down your hatches and prepare the be boarded. This is what happens when you proudly display a skull and crossbones on your bottom....yo ho yo ho a pirates life for me.....I am certain he will be gentle with you stitches and carefully take care of all that itches.... enjoy....xoxoxox kk
Hahahahahah!!!!!
I should not be laughing so much!!!!
You are completely hilarious, kk!
And so witty, you gorgeous thing!
Oh how I wish Mr Sparrow would pay me such a visit!!!
I will be unbattening my hatches in preparation for a thorough jolly rogering!!
Stitches or not!!
I am flaunting my skull and crossbones in flagrant disregard of the rules of engagement!!
Yo ho Yo ho - A pirates life for me, indeed!!
xoxoxoxoxoxox
I am preparing to be boarded...
Oh Minx, my poor dear! Your undies are talking to you! When that happens to me, I politely ask for a bottle of gasX... and then walk out of hearing range.
:-)
meow.
Oh Sauerkraut!!!
I will indeed do myself a disservice from all the rollicking laughter this morning!!!
You are absolutely priceless!!
I had not thought of the repercussions of comments made regarding the "rumbling from my undies"!!!!!
Of course I hadn't. Really. Presumably because my underpants do not use that type of language!!
If they speak in the tone to which you refer, it would be in hushed whispers only, barely discernable by the human ear and certainly not by the human nose!!
Meow xxx
and purrrrr xx
(not prrrtttt)
It's more than a small pleasure to be introduced to the delights of a lady's undergarment collection, I can assure you, domestic minx.
I am sure that many of the neglected pieces of lingerie were thrilled to be selected again, if only for one day!
I shall suggest a similar strategy to Mrs Blunt, if only to stave off another trip to Evans'.
Best wishes
Bill
One day, you may wish to auction a portion of your stock for charity, dear Minx. To maximise the takings, you should provide washed ones for the ladies and soiled ones for the men.
Can I say once again I LOVE the way your mind works and your pen writes. It is decadent darling and delicious indeed
This is my FAVORITE post of the month of all the posts I have read
If I had my way, dear Minx, all your underwear would be complaining, as they would ALL be lying, unused, on the bedroom floor.
I doubt I will fill my drawers with lacy delectable knickers any time soon, ( I seem to be stuck at the mo on the basic black and a weeks worth will get me by) but you know maybe I should make a pair for my doll ;)
I do, Bill, have quite a fanciable collection, from slippy psychedelic bikinis to Ursula Andress style boy shorts to bada bing bada boom casino call girl creations to burlesque style frilly bottom fiascoes!
I can be whoever I want to be with a simple choice of knickers!
I am inclined to believe that Mrs Blunt has a world of secrets in her underwear drawer too, just begging for your exposition.
And if she doesn't, I suggest the jaunty tying of some satin ribbons on the sides of those department store panties, gathering them in a flurry of flirtiness and sexy surprise. A beribboned and bedazzling result, I'm sure.
Blow Evans'
xox