Every pair of underwear has a specific category-a purpose in life, if you will. There are your low-rise-wear-with jeans pairs, your low-low-rise wear with those ass-crack-showing pinstriped Dickies, your thongs for those last remaining Gap khakis with no back pockets, your A-team boy shorts for nighttime, your B-team granny panties for bed time, your varsity starters and your JV benchwarmers. And because I know that you’re wondering, yes mine are sorted by category and then stacked in priority order in my drawer. Cheeky monkeys.
Much like a mind, a pair of underwear is a terrible thing to waste. One must select the correct underwear genre and application for the correct outfit. Sometimes, however, in the dark confusion of the early morning it is possible to make a mistake. In a drawer overflowing with clean undies, somehow I managed to grab an are-these-kids-sized-low-rise pair rather than the no-VPL all-stars I should have gone with. I chalk it up to underestimating the rise on these trousers. I thought for sure I’d be in pre-baby-Britney land but besides sitting comfortably above my hips, they are also fully lined. So here I am, wasting one of two impossibly tiny pairs normally reserved for my Sevens when one of my mid-rise HappyFunPink pairs would have served just as well.