pretty knickers

Blythe duds


As I fumbled through the washing basket full of clean clothes off the line not yet folded sorted ironed (snort) and put away (again), I realised I was low on knickers. I looked out the window. Oh yes. An assortment on the line. 

I went to the reserves. The basket in the drawer that only gets drawn on if the favourites are in the wash. And I pulled out some lovely little lace things I hadn't worn in, let me think, a couple of years? 

The ones on the line are comfortable and practical, these ones in my hand were what I used to wear all the time and now only owned one pair of. I had a schizophrenic moment of horror at the line-undies, which are pretty daggy frankly, and which my younger self would have been horrified to see swaying up there. 

I have a friend who is famous in my group of friends for only wearing gorgeous knickers. 

It's impossible to catch her out. She only owns lovely undies.

And so I made a decision. 

No more waiting to lose that fabled 10kg before I go out and buy some nice knickers.

No more believing that everything else is more important and knickers are a waste of money. I will fly in the face of frugality (because after all there is a depressing collection on the line already.) I looked at the sweet lace in my hand and decided: I'm not going to improve my chances of feeling frumpy on a daily basis by wearing dreadful underwear. 

Time to invest.

Lets see how different the day feels wearing awesome pants. 

Can you tell me 'bout your undies? Or have I just hung myself out to dry? (And apologies to the fellas reading this who I may have made feel at all uncomfortable discussing knickers.)



articles & Recipes