It was a dark and windy night. It was snowing outside. The windows rattled. Trees swayed menacingly. Brrrrr.
Sounds like a good time to be half-naked in a satin, sequined, lacey negligee, right?
Look, people, I don’t care if you call me old, or frumpy, or sex-less. Winter is for flannel. Period. And socks. Thick ones. Fleece, if possible. If Victoria Secret had half a brain, they would be making their skimpy little nighties out of thick pile flannel, possibly with some battery operated heated underwires. Someone write them a letter for gosh darn sake. Truth be told, the Victoria Secret models could use a little insulation. They all look like they need a sandwich,…. or five.
And while I’m at it, let’s talk about underwires. Who in the world thought THAT was a good idea? A misogynist, obviously. Why not add some rebar, fiberglass, and sandpaper in the cups while we’re at it?
And don’t get me started on the ideas of thong underwear. Good Night! It’s asinine. (get it? Ass-inine…)
And for you men who think it’s a woman’s place to dress uncomfortably to ‘please her man’, may I gently suggest that you try on some of these contraptions and see how sexy you feel! I’ll tell you right now that amorous is not what you’ll be feeling. Cranky, annoyed, and irritated is what you’ll feel.
And possibly chafed.
Flannel. It’s the smart woman’s bedclothes.