When a very good friend of mine turned thirty years old, I sent her a gift. It was a pair of panties that I promised her would be the most comfortable and least “creepy” (in the sense that underwear creeps) that she had ever worn. At the time, I was in my early thirties and had done the full round. The cotton bikinis which snugged up and left unsightly butt bulges were first, then the thongs which were pretty invisible (because this was back in the day when the waistband of women’s pants were ridiculously high–around the waist, in fact) but which were soon discarded because they made me walk funny due the wad of fabric wedged into my backside. The G-string followed that, and worked better because if a person is going to walk around with fabric wedged into their butt, then less is more. But I wanted more. More comfort, more fit and that meant…more fabric. Wandering through Target, I found them. Bloomers, Grandma pants, whatever you want to call them, they were voluminous white nylon garments trimmed with a wide band of stretchy lace. They completely conflicted with my sartorial self-image, but they also had a retro, Marilyn Monroe-esque appeal. I bought them and I loved how comfortable and content to stay in one place they were, although the waistband was high enough to peek over the top of my pants. I sent a pair to my friend who tried them on and loved them too, but when her husband saw them on her he told her something to the effect of, “If you ever want to have sex again, you need to get rid of those.” Empty threat, I told her. Wear what you want. Sporty boyshorts came out some time later, and I converted to those, but the best pair I ever owned was the first ones I bought. The boyshort’s rise got lower and lower, trying to hide under the descending waistbands which ultimately brought on the whole muffin top unsightliness, while the leg bands got higher and tighter (trying to be cuter?) but renewing the butt bulge dilemma. Suddenly boyshorts were the worst of both worlds.

I think that between the changes in the fashions and the maturation of my derriere, the search for the best undergarment will be a lifelong one.  In the meantime, I keep a little of everything in my underwear drawer, including the Marilyns.