|….at least don’t laugh harder than me!The lingerie I ordered online arrived in the mail just in time to mock my single status. If you could anthropomorphize a chemise or pee-a-boo babydoll, they would be sticking their tongues out at me, crossing their eyes, and yelling “neener neener neener!”
Here’s a snapshot of the lingerie (and red glitter heels which match my Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz outfit):
And this is what made me laugh so hard I almost cried. My uber-gorgeous lingerie with matching microscopic thongs (WTF!!!) didn’t come in wrapping paper. Or tissue. Or little silk bags like I get at the lingerie shop downtown.
No…. my lingerie came in BOXES! At first, I wondered why the hell they were sending me pornos!!!
So, FYI….Trashy.com for lingerie. You can find it all.
I have a huge lingerie collection – upwards of 7 drawers full of bras, garter belts, panties, bustiers, corsets, stockings, bodysuits, and chemises. And that’s not including the costumes…
It’s impressive, even by Victoria’s Secret standards.
Periodically, I run out of space in my bureaus and I have to pare down some of my collection.
The black panty with the red lace heart window and garters always stays.
As a woman, I have tiers of lingerie – levels of cotton, lace, and satin which increase in sexiness as you go up. It’s a so-called pyramid of lingerie.
At the bottom of the pyramid is the period underwear. These pairs are so bad that no one is allowed to see us in them. They can sometimes be stained, occasionally stretched out, and definitely not anything you want to be caught dead in. You wear these when you’re feeling gross and bloated.
The next level is the comfortable lingerie – these are your plain cotton panties, your Fruit-of-the-Looms, your gym underwear. They’re your business underwear – all work, no play. When you want to be comfortable you wear these. Not necessarily meant to be seen in, but it’s not the end of the world if you are. You’re not dressing to impress.
Up one tier we encounter the Fredericks of Hollywood and Victoria’s Secret lingerie. This is your standard sexy lingerie which looks good on you but still eventually fades and semi falls apart because it was made in China. Still, you remember when it was sexy so you keep wearing it.
Finally, you have your top tier lingerie – La Perla, Elle MacPherson, Agent Provocateur, Eberjey. and Faire Frou Frou. These are your drop-the-jaw, shut-the-door, mama-and-daddy-are-getting-it-on lingerie. They are the pieces that when we put then on we feel instantly sexy (and they hold up over the years because they were mad in Italy and France).
They are the pieces that when we put them on we feel instantly sexy. Like a Pussycat Doll on a mission. Not all of these pieces have to be expensive. I have a hot pink slip from Target which makes me feel like Marilyn Monroe.
If you catch my in my top tier undies, chances are you’re getting lucky.
Just writing this makes want to go inventory my lingerie drawers and post pics of me and my favorites.
But since I’m away from home, I’ll have to be satisfied posting my boudoir photos again.
P.S. I have a small but impressive collection of vinyl that makes me understand the meaning of the word fetish on a cellular level…
You know how I LOVE lingerie?
AND Burning Man?
Well, I’m perpetually shopping for items I can bring to Burning Man, especially LINGERIE, since lingerie and bathing suits seems to be par for the course on the playa.
And fuck me for not having a size six body, it would be SO MUCH EASIER if I did.
Instead I have to get custom work and shop plus size rave clothing.
It’s not easy.
Especially since I stumbled across Bad Star Lingerie!
Well, fuck me with a knife and call me Stanley, I literally DROOLED ALL OVER MY COMPUTER SCREEN.
One of the looks I like is the bathing suit layered over a strappy harness.
It’s comfortable, lightweight, but edgy.
Something about it says “grab me by a strap and pull me to you.”
Bad Star Lingerie has THE MOST GORGEOUS PIECES YOU CAN IMAGINE.
So lovely in fact that I suspect I’d choose to wear them along with some pasties covering my nipples.
HOWEVER, that look probably works best on a size six frame.
So all you burner girls out there with tight size six bodies, here you go.
This one’s for you. . .
I have several obsessions.
Evening gowns was one, although I have a friend “Amy” who puts me to shame with her endless evening gown collection.
After that it’s lingerie. I have drawer upon drawer of lingerie, most of which never gets worn because I like comfy cotton boyshorts and bras which are slightly too small for me, making the kittens look outrageously good.
Then there’s the obsession I don’t talk about very often – the black vinyl clothing obsession.
Who knew you could love synthetic fabric so much you would want to wear it close to your skin EVERY DAY?!
And speaking of naughty obsessions, there’s also my strange affection for neoprene.
Gotta love me some wetsuits!
Snort in that neoprene smell.
What I’ve failed to mention so far is that by and far my most ardent obsession is with makeup.
If you want to cheer me up, hand me $100 and take me to the drugstore or the department store and let me loose in Cosmetics.
I go bananas for pots and pans of colors!
My sons have evolved a technique to keep me from looking in the windows of Sephora because I can disappear in that store for HOURS!
My aunt, cousin, and niece all like going through my makeup and taking what I no longer use.
So it’s my niece’s birthday coming up and she, like me, loves makeup.
I bought her some nice, light colored eye shadow palettes and a pack of brushes – because every girl should learn to use brushes.
I am a damn fine auntie!
I’m not sure how to write this post without using a lot of euphemisms, so bear with me.
Recently, I’ve run into a guy who has a panty fetish.
Not THAT kind of panty fetish.
He doesn’t like wearing them (though I’ve come across those who do).
He likes to, ahem, sniff them.
Not a clean pair fresh from the laundry pile, mind you.
He prefers panties that have been worn all day and are slightly, ahem, damp.
He asked me to describe what my panties smell like after a day of work.
I don’t know about you but the only time I sniff my panties is when I’m trying to figure out if that pair on the floor is clean or dirty.
So I said the only thing that came to mind.
They smell sweet and musky.
Well, he just about DIED.
Say it again, he requested.
Sweet and musky.
So now, when I go out on a date with this guy, he is expecting me to hand over to him the panties I am wearing.
I do believe that I am going to wear TWO pairs of panties that day.
One pair for reals, and one pair for him.
He’ll get to keep the outer pair of panties while I can continue to enjoy the comfort of my inner pair of panties.
And both of us go home happy.
It’s a universal dilemma for women, I think.
You can wear granny panties that SUCK YOU IN (they’re called Spanx) and give you a smooth silhouette, or you can wear sexy lingerie which lets all the lumps and bumps show.
If you desire to wear sexy lingerie AND have a SMOOTH silhouette, you encounter a Catch 22.
The desired outcome is impossible to attain because of contradictory rules and conditions.
I have (on occasion) worn my SPANX under my clothes to parties and on dates in order to look sleek and smooth.
Those scary looking girdles really hold you in!
Then, when I’m going to “get busy” I go to the bathroom and CHANGE into my sexy underwear.
Something black and lacy, perhaps?
Or vibrant red and trimmed with velvet?
Of course, I always wonder if my date can tell that something is different.
All of a sudden I have a tummy.
Or my hips have love handles.
What’s up with that, he might think?
No one has ever said anything to me, so I suspect I’ve managed to SLIP IT UNDER THEIR RADAR.
But now I’ve bought an under-the-bust corset to even further the charade that I’m shaped like the perfect hourglass.
I imagine I’ll get totally screwed when it comes to getting naked, however.
No pun intended, but it’s virtually impossible to get out of a corset without help.
But it could work to my advantage seeing as how a woman in nothing but an under-the-bust corset is actually pretty damn sexy.
Think voluptuous breasts and an ample rear end.
I’m quite sure I could get this to work for me.
I am a planner.
All my shit is packed for Burning Man already.
Just add food.
And I plan events IRL.
It’s just what I do.
So when I found out that The Swede was coming to California to go to unSCruz with me, you can be damn sure that I planned the hell out of that weekend.
I wanted it perfect.
Now as many of you know, I have a “thing” for lingerie.
Every time I sleep with someone new, I get new lingerie.
It’s just a habit I’ve developed over time.
New man = new lingerie.
That accounts for why I have 5 (used to be 7) drawers full of the stuff.
So I bought lingerie for The Swede.
A short little black, strappy number in soft silk.
And then, as is typical for me, I proceeded to get too drunk to figure out how to put it on.
It’s not easy to navigate strappy things in the dark when you’re drunk and a handsome warm man is laying in your bed waiting for you.
So I went to bed naked.
Which is par for the course for me.
Girl attempts to seduce boys with sexy lingerie. Girl gets too drunk to put on sexy lingerie. Girl continues to buy sexy lingerie even though it never gets worn.
Story of my life.
I hoard certain things.
I think it’s very odd that I hoard these things because the truth is (other than the costumes), I BARELY use any of it.
I just feel compelled to buy it.
Take lingerie for instance.
I have five drawers FULL of lingerie.
I used to have seven but I downsized.
The other day I bought aqua, lavender, and pink camisoles for an outfit for Burning Man.
You’d think the shopping was finished after I bought those, but you’d be wrong.
I had to buy matching lingerie.
Will anyone ever see my lingerie?
I certainly hope so, but it’s not very likely.
The last opportunity I had to show off lingerie was with the Swede and instead of trying to (drunkenly) get into a teddy held together by delicate little straps and lace, I opted to sleep IN THE NUDE.
My son came into my room as I was buying a push up, pink racerback bra.
He glanced at my computer screen, saw the description of the bra, looked me square in the eye and said. . .
“Do you REALLY need a push up bra, mom? Isn’t that being a bit redundant?”
From the mouths of babes.
As you all know, I very much enjoy being single and playing the field.
No, this is not a post about that.
This is a post about the TOTAL WASTE OF SPACE MY LINGERIE COLLECTION IS TAKING UP.
It’s so UNDERUSED.
Do I need to wear a sign around my neck that says date me?
Or maybe it should say something else?
Don’t go there.
Even if there was a man I could wear lingerie for, I doubt he’d appreciate it.
Honestly, I can count on one hand the number of times a man has stopped in the middle of the action to remark on my lingerie.
It’s just something that gets in the way of all that delicious nudity.
On the other hand, if I had a nickel for every time a man paused, shook his head slowly, and remarked on what a nice body I have, I’d be rich.
Well, I’d at least be able to buy myself a beer.
As you all know, I attended my 25th high school reunion a few days ago.
And by and large, I had an EXCELLENT time.
But I left relatively early because. . .
I was invited to attend a lingerie party in San Jose.
Not a lingerie party where women show up, drink wine, eat cheese, and BUY lingerie.
A party where people go IN LINGERIE.
Naturally, I had to bring my lingerie with me so that I could change into it after the reunion – a black eyelash lace teddy and fishnet stockings.
But that wasn’t all.
You see, I was spending the night with Dante after the party and so I had to bring toys (read: sex toys) with me.
So there I was, sitting at the reunion table, with a bag full of lingerie AND a big HUGE magic wand and cock ring.
If they were giving out prizes, I’d get one for the most likely to shock the daylights out of her classmates.
I was quite the Goody Two Shoes in high school.
Something is right in this world when you show up to your high school reunion with a bagful of lingerie and sex toys.