I need a second drawer for my underwear. Not because I have so many that they can’t fit into one (almost, but not quite), but because I need to sort them. The categories: 1. Comfortable; 2. Not Comfortable.
After Jockey decided to do away with size small underwear (curse their oversized hearts), my underwear buying mantra has been, “Is it cute? Is it on sale?” If one or the other (preferably both), it’s in. This has lead to a great variety of undies, with few sets repeated in the collection. Contrast this to the days when I bought jockey boxer-briefs and the only difference between pairs was the color.
So, with a great plethora of underwear I tend to just throw them all in the drawer and then root around until I find something I think I might like that day. It’s mostly boxer-briefs, but the occasional plain boxer or brief or something else is mixed in with the collection. There are, of course, pairs mixed in which are, how to say, less comfortable than others. Either too tight, too loose, too high across the ass, too low a waist, too high a waist, the seam irritates my piercings, whatever. For some reason, they’re just not comfortable for wearing. And I tend to forget which pairs those are. Hence the need for a second drawer. Because heaven forfend I should throw out a pair. Then I might forget how bad they were and buy them again. Instead I just forget how bad they are and wear them again.
Which brings us to yesterday’s pair. A nice pair of black 2Xist cotton boxer-briefs. They fit well when I put them on. Not too snug, waist hit the right place, etc. Then they got worn for a while. Sometime around, oh, noon, the cotton in this pair had stretched out to the point where they might as well have been boxers. No support, no clinging to the legs/crotch, just limp cotton hanging around. But not like the nice thin cotton that boxers are, no, this was slightly thicker, with ribbing in all the wrong places. I couldn’t get out of them fast enough when I got home.
And since I did laundry last night, I know they’ll be dry tonight (cold wash, drip dry), and will go right back in the drawer, where they’ll sit unloved, until the next time I’m at a loss for what to wear and drag them out again, only to remember that I hate them. But by then it will be too late.
