Today I am wearing the red underwear and matching bra that I bought 10 years ago. I had come home for the summer - the first extended visit in 2 years – and my father, upon witnessing the sad state of my underwear as I neatly folded them, threw me his credit card.
“My god, woman! Go buy yourself something decent – red shiny stuff or something. That boyfriend of yours will be here in a week and I won’t have him seeing my daughter in holey cotton panties.”
There are so many things wrong with that statement. First, my father recognized I’m a woman (when I was 25 he saw a picture of me on the beach in Italy and exclaimed, “You have cleavage!”). Second, apparently my father has no problem with men seeing his (then) 20 year-old daughter in her skivvies, so long as she’s attired in lingerie and not comfy cotton (admittedly ragged) jockey underwear. But the worst part was hearing the word “panties” come out of my father’s mouth. Not only do I detest THAT WORD, but hearing it from him was embarrassing and sent me back to our shopping trip. You know the one – the FIRST BRA shopping trip.
My mother having died and left me the only girl in the family for 7 years (until my father remarried) I found myself on the hated shopping excursion with my father (lucky me) who discussed the merits of underwire (never a necessity for me) with the saleslady, who beamed at him as though he’d won the father-of-the-year award and, ah shucks, ain’t he cute?
I remember everything right up to the moment when he turned to me, holding a small flimsy bra high in each hand: “Do you like the one with the bow or the little pink rose?” at which point I melted into the floor.
So, ten years ago, shamed by my father into buying proper underwear with which to tempt my boyfriend I took the credit card, sans father, to the Rimrock Mall and purchased red shiny bra and matching panties (gag).
Is it sad that these garments look exactly the same ten years later and that they are the items I am forced to wear when I desperately need to do laundry?
3 comments:
Um. Yeah. It's sad. But at least you have the shiny red combo. Me. I got nothin.
Did you ever see a similar scene in an episode of Who's The Boss? Disturbing.
Who's the Boss is very much like my life - Stepmom very much like Angela - even looks like her!
That book on being a french girl puts a lot of stress on the imporance of quality undergarments.
Even if no one sees?
I think quality undergarment shopping should go on our agenda. Can't eat chocolate, must shop.
Post a Comment