No Knickers

I found this article in the Times on Monday; the journo, Hannah Betts, makes a case for abandoning knickers and going commando, she even names Hollywood celebs who've already made the decision. I asked my husband about it, he said no way unless you're doing it as a one-off for a joke or a dare, or just to get your backside warmed. I asked him why. He said simple, because I like taking them down, end of.

The article's below

Why going without knickers is no big deal.

Is it wise to confess that I too go commando? Not, with any luck, as ostentatiously as Thor actress Jaimie Alexander, but possibly more concertedly.

The elegant Livia Firth has also dallied with pantlessness, Nigella Lawson has more than once opined on her loathing of knicker constriction. While Hollywood “freebuffers” include Gwyneth Paltrow and Heidi Klum (who took a rather revealing topple while indulging back in the spring). One might argue that the evening dress sorority falls into two camps: Spanx wearers and the knickerless, and I know which I’d rather be in.

Like the Domestic Goddess, I detest knickers, always have done, always will. Drawers are the original pain in the backside: too big, too small, too prominent either way. Women of my generation live in fear of the dread VPL (visible panty line) ruining the effect of a frock. While thongs are obviously an utterly revolting concept, rightly eschewed by all but the most craven and attention-seeking N-listers.

What’s a girl to do? Why, accept that knickers are a recent and tyrannical invention that can easily be dispensed with, that’s what. To be sure, one has to take care to avoid the odd Basic Instinct moment, but deport oneself in a decorous fashion and that’s easily done, not least in an evening gown, trews or fitted skirt.

The consequences of this situation mean a drawer full of pristine, unworn Agent Provocateur smalls; a situation that could be resolved were I to take up with a pert-bottomed transvestite (there is still time). And I was mortified back in the summer when my first — and last — case of VPL led to an observer regaling one and all with the exclamation: “Good God, Betts is wearing pants!”

Still, the upsides outweigh the down. One glamourpuss of my acquaintance deploys strategic pantlessness as a means of adding to her not inconsiderable allure, telling me that those around her can “subconsciously pick up on — how shall we put it? — the siren call of my joie de vivre”.

And there is a certain minxish bravura that comes with dropping one’s drawers. When Livia Firth dispensed with them for the premiere of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, her mother phoned and warned: “There is a certain look in the eye of a woman who wears no knickers.” It is pants rather than pantlessness that will be going away.

Have a fun weekend.

Ronnie
xx