I bought new underwear the other day. It wasn't because I necessarily desperately needed to have new ones - I just splurged.  Most of the old pairs, barring several, had all or most of the elastic intact and were free of holes.  It's part of this new life I am encountering - newly single and new underwear!   It was a bit of stimuli overload standing in the "intimate" department perusing the racks of panties.  Never I guess did I fully realize there were so many kinds, fabric textures, and wow - sizes!!  If we don't already advertise our rear ends just by walking around the earth in front of others, we now have the privilege of clearly declaring our underwear size to the cashier also.  I wondered after I made my purchase and walked away if the cashier turned and thought, "Yep, she looks like a 6."  Or maybe she thought, "No way that **s will fit in those!"  I am a texture and feel kind of girl.  I can't just look at the underwear, I have to feel it.  Then, I envision that fabric either easily sliding against my jeans or causing friction and riding up to the hither regions.  Such a momumental hinge sort of decision.  When I was a kid my mom hung out everything on the clothesline - and I mean EVERYTHING!  There flapping in the spring, summer and fall breezes were an array of panties - 3 children, my dads and hers...all different sizes, shapes and patterns.  Cotton "Grannie" panties that came nearly up to her neck hung neatly on the line.  I always thought as full-sized as they were it must have been like wearing a pair of school issued gym shorts under your clothes.   Since I adhere to the less is better philosophy in most areas of my life, underwear has to meet that criteria.  Years ago I decided to venture outside of "me" and try the thong.  I gave it whirl for a time at the urging of a friend who said, "Give it time, you will come to love them and you won't have pantie lines."  Well, I gave it time and she was right - magically no pantie line - but hated a thin string wedged constantly in my crack at all times:)   Besides that, I felt my cheeks were just far too exposed.  When weather is inclement I run inside in my basement on the treadmill.  I get so overly hot when running that it's more comfortable to run in my underwear, a sports bra and tennis shoes (no socks please) with the fan blowing full force on me.  Before this newly single stage of my life my criteria for new underwear was based on whether they stayed up while running.  There were multiple times when the underwear was losing elasticity and literally slid down my legs as I was running.  So, I hopped off the treadmill, whipped them off and climbed back on.  Do you think it could be a new venue in the Olympics - Partially Nude Treadmilling?  Well, there I stood rifling through the underwear racks - what to buy this round.  So, based on my love of simple I chose very thin cotton bikinis to wear with low slung pants that you don't want bunches of underwear hanging above.  And, boy shorts purely because standing in front of the dressing room mirror my butt looked pretty damn good in them.  Of course you guessed it no bows, lace or polka dots for me - only tan, white and black.   Haven't broke them in on the treadmill yet - just waiting for winter. 

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