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.)
xxx