As you all know I work in a museum, we have a vast, varied collection which does include big knickers of the historic variety. In fact, I did spend some time documenting them. Most interesting to see how they have changed over time in size, construction and fabric. But that’s not what this blog is about.
You see, today, for the first time since pregnancy I felt compelled to wear some big knickers. Proper Bridget Joners. I’ve never done this before, but at the moment I have a thing about general fatness. My arms look fat and my tummy looks flabby. I also have a thing about not looking like a frumpy mummy. The two are not a good combination for someone who used to run three miles per day and do 100 sit- ups and 100 press-ups morning and night.
Big knickers are not comfortable, especially when one sits at a desk. Big knickers are not terribly flattering in profile. Big knickers are a sign of apathy about healthy eating. Big knickers do not contribute to overall feelings of attractiveness. Big knickers are a sign of age. Soon I will be closer to forty than 21 (ahem, ok 30). I think I’m having a mid-life crisis early. Big knickers are not for me. They also make you feel incredibly self conscious at work.