Granny Panties

When did you start wearing underwear?
And stop wearing panties?

For most of us I suspect it’s a gradual thing. We’re 3 year olds wearing easy-to-wash cotton panties. Then about middle school or high school we start off wearing bikini bottoms, or even thongs. After college, we might advance to low slung, high cut legs. We probably move on to a slightly higher waisted model, perhaps after having children and sporting a little muffin top. Next we move one size up. We hang out with these panties for several years. But we buy pretty lacy one.. Black ones. Silky ones. And maybe matching bras.
At this stage we’re still going to Victoria’s Secret. Our significant other is still buying lacy things for us.
When we’re not nude we’re sleeping in teddies on our anniversaries and maybe our Sig O’s birthday. A little sumthin sumthin. But children come along, and they’re climbing into bed with us. They’re puking and peeing and generally being little people. We put clothes on to sleep. A big tee shirt. A cotton nightgown.
And some time between 40 and 50, we find ourselves at Wal Mart, in the cotton underwear aisle, buying 6/pk Hanes for Her. Two sizes larger than when we were 18, if we’re lucky.
We’re buying granny panties. The kind you can hoist up a make shift mast on your home made raft when you need a sail to get you off the deserted island Gilligan landed you on.
Maybe we’ve left a husband and THANK the GODDESS we can wear something comfortable again! He might be out there with a thong-clad 24 year old, but at least we can be comfortable in our great big undies while we eat Turtle Tracks right out of the carton, over the sink.
Maybe we’ve reached that absolute time in our lives when we give up uncomfortable clothes that ride up on us and lodge in the very places we’re trying to cover.
For me, it was when my aunt died, and I flew home without packing undies. My sister and I went to the mall and I went to Belk’s and I bought white cotton underwear. The kind my aunt used to wear. The kind I caught my grandmother in. Comfortable, dependable, breatheable cotton underwear. No one to impress. No one to worry about whether they thought I was getting old. Just comforting. Comfort-ing. Simple times. Simple underwear.
We come full circle. Cotton to cotton. Comfort to comfort.
Kiddie. To Granny.
Panties to…underwear.