Recently I have felt the urge to clean and declutter. This usually isn't a good sign in my house because it means I throw out things that probably shouldn't enter the dump zone, but oh, well, see ya later. I also have had this heavy heart about the hurricane victims and their needs, but then I also think about the people around me that struggle every day without a national disaster.
So, I was doing laundry Sunday and notice that a few of my drawers, okay the undies drawer, was a little overfull. I have no clue why, I wear the same 10 pair in rotation after washing. You all know I refuse to wear thongs, so I wondered what in the world that could be making this drawer a tight fit. I pulled it all the way out and discovered mounds of underwear from when I was super skinny to pregnancy until now. I am not a hoarder. I have no idea why they were in there, but then I came across three pairs of these cotton like shorts from Victoria's Secret.
Hmm, I obviously bought these for a reason. I obviously had the money to purchase them. I obviously figured out why I never wore them. It clicked. I did wear one pair, one time. See back in the day, it was the style to either go commando or see your panty lines. I chose neither at that time. My wassa naked in blue jeans with a zipper doesn't sound sexy. You need to provide some type of knight and shining armour for these parts. I thought that these booty shorts would be great for no lines. You know Dirty Sexy Cool for a girl out "in da club."
I am stupid. My ass couldn't handle all that material. My butt cheeks hung out the sides. Even at 115 pounds I had a little puff in my tuff. So all they did was roll up to the center of my crack and then for hours on end until I got home, I became a sumo wrestler. And of course, I walked like I had a wine cork up my butt in a make shift diaper thanks to the careful planning of VS. There are only so many times you can pull your pants out of your crack with normal underwear, but having to roll out the booty shorts one leg at a time takes strategic planning. It's a covert operation to try and get the homemade washrag out of your hind parts, then set back down and not move until time to go home. I am pretty sure I gave up and just stuck my hands down the back of my pants and pulled it out. Don't worry I did it in the most lady like way possible. Probably not.
As I look at these booty suckers, I think for at least a hot minute I will keep them. Since I am venturing out into single land, I may want to feel hot snot. I tried them on. Looked in the mirror and after 10 plus years of these things being in my drawer, I looked like a Spaniard in a Speedo. It was a sight for sore eyes. Hell, even my own corneas couldn't handle it. I turned to the side and realized I looked like a well done burger with Swiss cheese. I forgot to apply self tanner to the back of my legs. Jillian Michaels would sign me up for some type of bootcamp that required a reversal IV of the intake of fat the last years of my life.
I peeled them off, decided that $30 smacks for underwear at the time, provided so many wonderful memories that I put them in my cleaning basket. I love fancy dust rags and hot damn if I just didn't create a do it yourself project. How to take your old booty shorts and make them into cleaning supplies. Where do I sign up for Shark Tank?