For bikini-style options, it was a choice between either a pack of your standard, run-of-the-mill white cotton undies, and a pack of assorted-color "sporty" bikinis. I don't know what makes them "sporty." Nothing about them seemed especially befitting of a sportsman to me. According to the package: "Sport-inspired style that's made to be as active as you are." Okay. So sporty means athletic. Now, not much about me is athletic at the moment, and I'm not sure my underwear needs to be active (whatever that means). But I'm right in the middle of my period and brand-new, bright white underwear kind of seems like asking for trouble in the form of more laundry. Sporty bikinis it is.
Can I just take a moment to say what a revelation it was when I discovered the existence of bikini underwear? Well, it was. My mother picked out and purchased my underwear for me into my teens, and it was always briefs. Huge, little-girl/old-lady briefs, which I actually requested if you can believe it. I was overweight from about age 11 on, and of the two panty options I knew about at the time, briefs were preferable to the hi-cuts insomuch as my hip- and lower-abdomen-flab didn't poke out below the leg-opening. When I finally got my hands on, and my ass into a pair of bikini underwear, I was briefly (heh) astounded. Nothing was being weirdly bisected or constrained! And if I had to have a belly roll, at least I finally appeared to have just the one, instead of two or three. I'm a fan of the bikini underwear, even (especially!) for plus-size girls. (Now, as for an actual bikini: that's another matter entirely. I've worn one maybe three times in my adult life, and one of those times was in a birthing tub.)
So here I sit, "sporty" bikini underwear underneath my not-quite-skinny jeans, and I'll be honest with you: I am not nearly fit enough to qualify as "sporty" in the eyes of the Hanes company. In fact, they really might as well print You Must Be This Athletic to Purchase on the packaging.
Instead of a nice band of stripey elastic lying smoothly across my hips, I have a nice roll of flab on either side of the allegedly wide elasticized waistband. It's super flattering, and kind of flabbergasting.* Why can't something just fit like it's supposed to fit, regardless of what size you are?
Fortunately, as much as I'd like my body to be stronger and thinner, I'm also pretty okay with it and all the stuff it can do. It also helps that I live with a man who loves me for thinner or for fatter, in firmness and in flab, and truly believes that the top is the best part of the muffin. However, the point of buying new underwear was to, uh, get some new, not-stretched-out-by-pregnancy underwear. Not to remind myself that Sporty Spice I ain't.
So here I sit, "sporty" bikini underwear underneath my not-quite-skinny jeans, and I'll be honest with you: I am not nearly fit enough to qualify as "sporty" in the eyes of the Hanes company. In fact, they really might as well print You Must Be This Athletic to Purchase on the packaging.
Instead of a nice band of stripey elastic lying smoothly across my hips, I have a nice roll of flab on either side of the allegedly wide elasticized waistband. It's super flattering, and kind of flabbergasting.* Why can't something just fit like it's supposed to fit, regardless of what size you are?Fortunately, as much as I'd like my body to be stronger and thinner, I'm also pretty okay with it and all the stuff it can do. It also helps that I live with a man who loves me for thinner or for fatter, in firmness and in flab, and truly believes that the top is the best part of the muffin. However, the point of buying new underwear was to, uh, get some new, not-stretched-out-by-pregnancy underwear. Not to remind myself that Sporty Spice I ain't.
*flabbergast (tr. v.) - To cause to be momentarily overcome with astonishment at one's flabbiness.
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This post inspired by true events, and GGC's fabulous state-of-the-belly address.
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