Monday 10 December 2018

The wrong knickers

Not the actual knickers

Sometimes a seemingly simple walk down to the local shop can be more stressful than expected.  I have a feeling that what I'm about to tell you is something both male and female readers will identify with from time to time.  This, of course, isn’t the first time it’s happened to me.

So, it wasn’t until I had got to what must have been exactly half way there this afternoon that it started.  The riding up.   My knickers - you don't need detail, just know they're not a thong - had ridden up one cheek in a very irritating fashion, and then with every further step it just continued to get worse, of course.  Pinned against my skin by tight jeans there was no way they were going to ride down again of their own accord and settle back against their assigned place just above the natural slope of cheek-base/thigh-top interface.

So, I did that thing I think we all do (please tell me you do.) I’ve got a thigh-length coat on so as I’m walking I (very swiftly and surreptitiously) slip my hand under the hem and slide it around behind, then nip down inside the back of my jeans to do a bit of high-speed furtive sortage, having checked there are no pedestrians in my immediate vicinity, whilst continuing to walk and appear as nonchalant as possible. Would anyone from a window, or any passing cars notice?  I’ve no idea what this little manoevre looks like from the outside, as I've never tried it in front of a mirror. Possibly like getting something out of a back pocket. Or possibly like someone actually putting their hand down inside the back of their trousers whilst trying to appear not to.

Ah, that’s better, I think, as I reposition everything - snug and sorted.  For about three steps.  Then the seam rebels once more.  Up it goes.  Up.  Up again and I can’t think about anything else.  I try the sneaky you-can’t-see-what’s-going-on-under-my-coat move again but this time it just makes it worse and causes a bit of cutting in in a place you don’t want to know about.  It’s further to go home than to continue; I’m going to have to get to the shop and linger around the vegetable aisle like this.  I persevere, crazily preoccupied by what’s going on with my pants.

The point of me waffling on about this nonsense is simple – wouldn’t it just be brilliant if we could treat our private underwear malfunctions just as we do a stone in the shoe?  You feel that little piece of grit pressing into your foot and what do you do? – you stop, put your bag down, stick your opposite arm out to balance, or preferably use it to prop yourself against a wall, cock your leg and remove the shoe, shake it, express surprise at how tiny the offending object was (it felt huge!), put your shoe back on, swivel your foot about a bit on the pavement to check it’s stone-free and then continue on your way. It's all very public and nobody cares.  Similarly with the slipping bra-strap.  So I would like to advocate the same tolerance of occasional open-air knicker adjustment.  Only when absolutely necessary, of course.  A quick drop of the trousers, sort yourself out, do yourself back up and on your way, instead of all this secret faffing about.  I suspect that anyone who saw me knew exactly what I was doing anyway...

8 comments:

  1. This was just so funny C, and something we girls can all identify with. You are right of course, it would be so much easier if we could just stop and adjust rather than faff about, but socks cover feet (easy to bare in public) whereas pants cover other bits (not so easy to bare in public).

    The key is to find a great-fitting, tried and tested style and stick with them. (Mr WIAA has been given strict instructions however, to rush out and buy some new ones if I am ever in an accident and taken to hospital - Even amid all the trauma, wouldn't want them to see my "tried and tested" knickers!)

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    1. I think I've gone a bit nuts, I was writing the post in my head as I walked back from the shop, but I really should be writing about more high brow subjects surely... blame it on too much work (I'm in panic mode). But yes, I should have stuck to my tried and tested no-faffing supermarket multi-pack - not sure about these ones now. I concur with your emergency priorities!

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    1. Not going to mention the potential pitfalls of that!

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  3. So true! And the old helter-skelter thing, I've had that a few times, why is that?! Not quite so embarrassing is when I've had ankle socks that slip down and end up exposing my heels and getting rucked up around the middle of my soles. And the occasional bra which has come undone by itself - just about okay if you're near a loo and can dive in to sort it out but can be extremely awkward in other circumstances... think I'm just going to have to wear a babygrow!

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  4. Haha yes - socks that literally make your toes curl!
    I ranted on here once long ago about my hatred of onesies but now I'm starting to wonder... although no, hang on, how on earth do you adjust your failing underwear then, or do you just not wear any? Think I'm happy to continue hating onesies...:-)

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  5. I gave your suggestion a try in the high street this afternoon.

    They let me have one phone call and one blog comment before they lock the cell door for the night.

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    1. Hmm, I wondered if it might have its flaws...

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Please come in, the door is open

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