Thongs? Lace? G-strings?
No more! These are the days of
XL and comfort.
It started the day you happened to glance across at your panties on a clothes-line, and realised just how large they are. Rocked by memories of how you giggled at Mummy's huge knickers back when you were an anorexic teenager, it took a moment or two to recover.
Chocolate helped. Chocolate always helps.
That's when you had to come to terms with the truth. You recalled that time when the laundry wasn't done and all you had left in your drawers (pun not intended) were a few racy remnants of a wonderfully misspent youth. What did you do? You chose to wear the B-side of one of these granny panties rather than pull on one of those beautiful but deadly itchy scraps of lace.
Even if you were destined for an accident which would have Dr. McDreamy undressing you and seeing what you left home in. Even if you were destined to bump into Salman Khan in a lift and overcome him with unbridled passion (hopefully reciprocated).
The grannie-panties won over all fantasies, dark or delightful - or dark AND delightful, as the case may be.
This, my friends, is when you knew for sure: you are finally a grown-up.
(This is an old post of mine from 2008, edited and re-posted)