Source: poshlingerie.net

How bad are granny panties really?

If you ask me, with all the forms of underwear out there that have one butt cheek out, a string in the middle, a bow in the front and some lace on them, they’re not bad at all. I usually save the granny panties for that time of the month and the monthly panty shortage (aka, laundry time!), but when I’m not around my boyfriend, I’m wearing those joints more often these days.

Back in the day, things were MAD easy when my mother (and probably your mother too) was buying my underwear for me. Somehow, my mother knew my size perfectly, would pick up a colorful pack of Hanes briefs from the store (I would get bikinis on my own later) and throw them my way before school started, when the season’s changed, or after she peeped some holey draws in the dryer. They always fit, they were always comfortable, and they always did what they were supposed to do. But it wasn’t until junior high that I started noticing that briefs just weren’t good enough anymore. Or so it seemed. Getting dressed for gym, friends were rocking thongs and making my “Wednesday” printed panties (I know you had the underwear for every day of the week too) look like something for a third grader. From then on, even though I knew no one was going to see my underwear but me at the time, I felt that I needed to step my game up. That’s when it all started.

When I look in my panty drawer today, clearly many years after the horror I faced rocking saggy granny panties in the ladies locker room in the sixth grade, I see an array of colors and fabrics strewn about from the past few years. Boy shorts, cheeky panties, glittery thongs, those tight a** hipsters. They have all kinds of snarky comments printed on them, and when I bought them I was excited. However, the fact that they’re now sitting in the cut in the back of my drawer is a tell-tale sign that they were given a try and failed. That is, they failed the test of keeping me covered, cute and comfortable at the same time, therefore, they were banished to the back, where they’ll only be used in absolute emergencies (once again, laundry time!). Through these panties I learned a lesson: panties aren’t made how they used to be, and in turn, they’re actually doing way too much these days.

Ever tried the cheeky? They’re the joints that come with lace trim and wild colors, and they leave a whole lot of booty out just in case you want to reveal a little somethin’ somethin’. Seriously, you know baby T’s and midriff baring cropped tops? Cheekies are like that for underwear. They’re the miniskirt of panties, and while they’re cute, they give you wedgies.

And don’t forget about boyfriend shorts. Weren’t they all the rage a few years back? They looked like shorts, but fit like those tight volleyball shorts that used to constrict your breathing in high school. They were supposed to look like a comfortable pair of your boyfriend’s briefs, but of course, not fit like your man’s actual briefs. In fact, as my friend would say, those jokers were a no-go because they could give you the terrible two: a front and back wedgie. In case you were wondering, no, that’s not cute at all.

And don’t get me started on the underwear that push the concept of “less is more.” Yes, I’m talking about thongs. They were once meant to help prevent you from having panty lines with skirts, tight pants, dresses and light-colored bottoms, but women these days wear them with just about everything and to everything: the gym, under sweats, with shorts and more. Maybe that’s why they’re always playing peek-a-boo over people’s bottoms. They can be cute, and they can be helpful, but per the usual, they just aren’t as comfortable as my bikinis or my granny style briefs. I’m sorry, they’re just not.

Aside from wearing some swexy and sassy pieces to impress a boo thang, I think, like most people, that my hope when I pull up and put on underwear is that I’ll be comfortable, and that my lady bits will remain cool (or at least have space) and covered. But these days, underwear are meant to expose every damn near every inch of you, and if they’re not riding up, they’re shrinking with the quickness in the dryer, or causing you to have to mentally prepare just to put them on. Why is the material and the fit for underwear getting smaller and smaller? Why when I go for a run do my hipsters cause so much trouble? (I’ve alleviated the issue by buying running shorts that have underwear in them already!) I understand that a part of the problem is fit, but if I go up in size, why do wedgies still have to put a damper in my jeans? Why when I search through drawers at stores is the selection full of a bunch of strings glitter, bows, and writing that says “Enjoy the view”? Where am I? Justice!?

While I don’t yearn for the days of my mother buying my draws for me, back when they always fit and did the least and the most at the same time, I do miss the days when underwear (NOT LINGERIE) was simple, and not low-rise to match jeans I don’t wear. Until panties and the people who make them get their act together, I’m going to stop paying $8 for a pair of draws, and stick to the big booty granny briefs that have kept me (and been a parachute just in case) for all these years. Well, on the week days at least.

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