I need to put a Post-It note or something on my computer monitors both at work and at home to remind me that the next time I get a wild hare up my ass to do some lingerie shopping that one really needs to have an ass to wear “cheeky panties”.
It’s like, I look at the pictures on the website of heinies sporting “cheeky” unmentionables – point of order, I have to use “unmentionables” because FUCK, do I hate the word “panties”. In my head, I can only hear my own nasal Chicago accent saying “panties” and it’s a brutal, brutal noise, so “unmentionables” it shall be from here on out. So anyway, I look at the pictures on the website of hind ends sporting cheeky unmentionables and they look so lovely and I’m dazzled into imagining that I possess such a hind end and suddenly, I see they’re on sale and I have a Lane Bryant credit card and oh, it’s been so long since I’ve bought anything at LB let alone refreshed my unmentionable collection with new gear so YES I WILL TAKE THE CHEEKIES THANK YOU *CLICK*.
Then, they arrive and I gleefully throw a pair on and realize I simply do not have the ass to fill these fuckers out. My flat ass that has been flat since the dawn of my time, that remained defiantly flat even when I was at my peak gym attendance, my flat ass didn’t magically puff out to match the photoshopped Lane Bryant asses. It just stayed its usual flatty self, with flaps of fabric sitting on my ass where ass would go if I only had an ass (a deleted song from “The Wizard of Oz”, perhaps).
Of course, I’m not going to send them back because from the front, they look pretty okay. And they go just enough with the new fancy bra I bought that has a little dingly-dongly decorative bit hanging from the middle thing (as you can tell, I am a dedicated follower of fashion). I go through odd periods of buying lingerie. And as you’ve learned from previous (whiny) posts of mine, it’s certainly not because I’m jazzing my junk up for my man – I just have these inexplicable buying jags where I turn my nose up at casual (or comfortable) underpants and will not buy anything that doesn’t feature lace or beading or sequins or see-throughy bits. I’ve dabbled in many lingerie areas, from boy shorts to bustiers (not that I have much yay to boost), and learned that more often than not, I wind up feeling more uncomfortable than sexay. It’s kind of hard to feel sexy when you’re digging lacy fabric out of your crack or trying to bend underwire so it’s not poking you in the side of the boob (or, in my case, my flibbety flubbety upper arm flesh).
And yet...when I get into one of my moods...I can’t resist the siren call to try and look like something of a siren.
Well, as much of a siren as a fairly androgynous chick who gets mistaken for a guy at least once a month can look.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Ass That Wasn't There.
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7 comments:
You could always go for that great Aussie term, "Undies"!
The big secret is that ass shape is entirely dependent on spine shape. Meaning unless you mold your spine, you're stuck with whatever ass you have.
I'm lucky in that my lower spine curves quite a bit, and that my 'swayback' means my ass is round and pert no matter my weight, or age (this was apparent by 6, if not before). Of course, it makes it much harder to find pants as all pants are cut for the flatter asses, and I will never ever look skinny no matter what. Le shrug.
You want some of my ass? I have enough to spare.
You know, for some odd reason I've been calling them underpants and unmentionables for the longest of times. I think it's because I thought unmentionables was an entertaining euphemism, and underpants just seemed fit right along with it.
I've had people try to tell me "you shouldn't be ashamed of them, they're totally mentionable!", which I fully agree with, but I still call them unmentionables.
I've also had people tell me that calling them underpants is just weird.
Also, at least they aren't wedged in your bits.
This post made me think of the Scarecrow's plaintive song in "The Wizard of Oz." Sing it with me: "if I only had an ass...."
I feel for you on this one, as I used to have no junk and no trunk; coupled with being 5'10" and having short hair at the time, I was frequently called "sir" by people approaching from behind. Nothing boosts a teenaged girl's ego like unintentional gender misidentification. As if I needed one more person to tell me what a failure I was as a woman.
'Round about the age of 20, an estrogen bomb hit me and changed my body shape so that I ended up with a waist, hips, and a whole lotta ass...a real bedonkadonka, truth be told, which brought its own new set of problems.
But until then, I had plenty of time to ponder the issue of my asslessness and what to do about it. Here are the fruits of that effort:
Strategy #1: Work it!
If you look at old pics of Princess Di, she had broad shoulders, proportional rack, narrow hips, and NO ass. Flat as a board back there. But she worked it well. I think a lot of it had to do with not acting embarrassed by it. She may have stooped a little bit when she first came into the public eye, but she never seemed self-conscious about her bum. I got the impression that she enjoyed getting into the clothes one can wear sans booty. Like mens-cut trousers. N' stuff.
Strategy #2: Fake it.
The Frederick's of Hollywood catalog sells butt pads, presumably for transvestites, because they also sell thigh-high PVC lace-up platform boots up to size 16, which might fit a power forward in the NBA. In my limited acquaintance with M-to-F transvestites, I have found them to have rigorous standards when it comes to add-on body parts. So I'm guessing the butt pads are probably pretty good. Some of the pads come sewn into panties, so you just pull them on and voila--you get the butt, *and* the panties/unmentionables/undies all in one step. You can try on a new ass, just like putting on a wig!
By the way, Frederick's also has some non-sleazy lingerie in a pretty wide range of sizes, so they may also be an option for regular, non-enhanced panties.
Long-time Jane fan, first comment:
I love your spirit when it comes to being wild with your unmentionables. Sometimes it's good to get a little crazy, even if no one else will see them.
I've got this pair of boxers with a cute elephant on them and the trunk is situated so that when you put your...
Oh hell, I've said too much already for this to be my first comment.
Keep rockin the hot stuff, Jane!
Heeeeeee, I just gotta tell you "not much yay to boost," cracked my (fairly substantial) ass UP. HEEEEEEEE.
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