Collecting things has always been a popular pastime. My own life has been cluttered with boxes of comic books, shelves of tiny china animals, rooms full of penguin figurines, and a small town worth of men. My sister, however, collected panties. Lace, silk, cotton, from giant granny pants to the whispiest bit of fluff, her dresser always had one drawer completely filled to overflowing with her collection.
She had some of the most unusual underwear. She had denim underwear, complete with pockets and belt loops. She had hand tatted lace underwear. It didn't look particularly comfortable, but it was lovely.
Her collection was divided into 3 categories. There were the sexy panties that were beautiful, or funny, but were not actually wearable. There were the set of panties that were perfect and comfortable. The third group were the well-worn panties. This is the group that tended to be faded, holey and/or stretched out. These were the comfortable, everyday panties.
She had some of the most unusual underwear. She had denim underwear, complete with pockets and belt loops. She had hand tatted lace underwear. It didn't look particularly comfortable, but it was lovely.
Her collection was divided into 3 categories. There were the sexy panties that were beautiful, or funny, but were not actually wearable. There were the set of panties that were perfect and comfortable. The third group were the well-worn panties. This is the group that tended to be faded, holey and/or stretched out. These were the comfortable, everyday panties.
When my sister was about 18, we discovered that you could tell her mood by which panties she chose for the day. What's more, we discovered that her mood changed according to what panties she chose. She tended to be more laid back, procrastinated more often, and was more often depressed, when she wore the old, holey underwear. However, when she wore her good undies, she tended to be cheerful and outgoing. Even when she became aware of it, herself, she knew that if she needed to get out of a bad mood, her good underwear was the first step. It might have been a psychological boost to her morale to know that "underneath it all" she was looking good. Whatever the reason, this pattern of behavior followed through to her married years, when, her husband would coax her to "put on her happy pants" if he found her to be down in the dumps.
According to Judie Taggart and Jackie Walker, authors of "I Don't Have A Thing To Wear: The Psychology of Your Closet", dressing is a form of expression, and therefore, what we wear, from the skin, outward, makes a statement about our past, how we see ourselves now, and what we want to become. They theorize that my sister's underwear drawer contains some painful memories, and that, when she wears those old panties that she associates, even on a subconscious level, with something unpleasant, affecting her mood. Similarly, some items in the drawer, remind her of her happy past, her cheerleading days, the days she felt she had reached the apex of her attractiveness. These panties could have either a bolstering effect on her mood, remembering her former successes, or, could cause her to reflect on how much she has changed from those days, which could bring her mood down. The "happy pants" drawer, however, says a great deal about who she wants to be or how she wants to be perceived. There are elements, in that drawer, of the Classic Beauty, the Vamp, and of the Artist. All of these have positive effects on the wearer's mood.
If we take the psychology of the underwear drawer a step further and examine our whole closet, we may learn a great deal about who we are, how we got this far, and where we are heading. What's more, we can learn to fill our underwear drawer, or our closet, with clothing that projects an image that we want to share with the world.
My only question now is: "What do my ruffly rhumba panties say about me?"
