Obviously, I make fun of others, but I’m not above pointing out how I can be ridiculous; even if no one would know otherwise if I just kept my mouth shut.
Better to be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt.
Yeah, I don’t subscribe to that when it comes to my self-mockery. I have some pretty strange streams of thought, usually in the morning while I’m getting ready for work, sometimes at work as I try to process repetitious property inspections. I mean, how many times can one person write, ‘roof appears worn with granular loss and missing and/or damaged shingles’ before going insane? It’s like asking “How many licks to the center of a Tootsie-pop?” There is no right answer, it’s different for everyone.
This is the story of how it turned ironic.
So, the other morning I was getting ready for work and as I was getting dressed I was thinking how stupid the little bows are that are stitched to the front of most women’s underwear.
Pictured above: Not my panties.
I started getting on a femi-nazi rant through my mind, remembering that one of my many women’s studies professors stated marketing and American vernacular reinforces women’s body appearances to make women feel they need to look pre-pubescent. She outlined everything from commercials showing waifish uncurvy females (Calvin Klein – Kate Moss), clothing styles, shaving/waxing to be hairless and even standard nick-names that reinforce women have to be cared for. Typical female terms of endearment are ‘Baby’ ‘Baby-doll’ ‘Sweety’ ‘Lil’ (lady, woman, girl). She spent a whole day knocking Hollywood’s treatment of actresses and placing anyone over the age of 30 in the roll of a ‘matron’ and often showing what often amounted in a 10 year age gap between the leading male to female where most of the time the men have to save the women in some way.
As insulting as that may be, I still find older men more attractive than younger men, though I’m starting to find as my demographic inches up the age bracket leading men are starting to be younger then me and I’m having a hard time adjusting to that. Also, you give me a decent looking Southern man with a husky voice murmur “Darlin'” in my direction and he can probably get me to do anything he wants.
"Hey, Darlin', come on in, water's fine."
Back to topic.
So, I was thinking to myself how the “To Care For” tag should be sufficient enough for most competent women to put their clothes on correctly and we don’t need some doofy bow on the front of our panties to tell us which side goes where. I also considered many panties now have what amounts to a tagless “to care for” tag hot-ironed to the back of the panties. Sure, that one is more subtle for the pre-caffeinated dressers, but still, it’s underwear how hard is it to get dressed if you have the lights on?
Pretty damn difficult as it turns out.
I am here to admit, within a week of me thinking these self-righteous, how dare the clothing manufactures belittle us, haughty attitudinal feminist thoughts, I put my underwear on inside out and didn’t notice until I was half-way through the work day.
There I am in the bathroom, and I realize my seams are poking out in the wrong direction of the stitching. These were both bowless and tagless panties, I did get dressed before having coffee, but it was in a well lighted area. I just had to laugh at myself, which when you are in a public restroom can cause people to look at you strangely when you emerge from the stall. Our restrooms at work are not exactly filled with laughter material.
Now you know, even the best of us and I dare say any number of feminists, probably need a damn bow on their underwear so they can put their clothes on correctly and not inside out in the morning.
Don’t you dare look at me funny the next time you see me!
FridayFunnyLoL 