I felt them go.
I had started the day feeling pretty cool. It was really hot and I threw on a little black jersey dress (I’ve never thrown on a dress before – I live in trousers) added a crisp white shirt and slipped my feet into my favourite ivory Nike Air Max 90 NRG 30th Anniversary trainers.
Arriving in the office, many a colleague commented (positively) on my dress. I think that it was the shock of seeing me in one.
It was on the way back from the loo that I first became aware that there was trouble brewing in the knicker department. About 3/4 of the way up the stairs my knickers started to work their way down.
I caught them just in time and made it back to my office.
About 6 weeks ago I had transitioned from size 12 to size 10 knickers. When my size 12s had became too big I headed to M&S and purchased several Knicker Deals worth of No VPL high rise shorts.
I love these knickers. When I finally kicked my Magic Knicker habit I discovered No VPL shorts. They are so light that it feels like you aren’t wearing any (always a bonus).
The first ones I bought were from Debenhams but unfortunately after a few washes the gussets became unstuck. Nobody likes a flappy gusset. So I went searching for some No VPL shorts with sewn in gussets (I’ve used the word gusset too frequently now and it’s become weird).
When I went on the hunt for size 10 knickers that were sewn together not stuck together, my first port of call was M&S. And there I found the perfect No VPL short – sewn not stuck, plain, black and weightless. As I said above I bought quite a few pairs of size 10.
Back to this morning, safely ensconced in my office, I realised what had happened. Obviously I’d accidentally worn a pair of size 12s. Despite the fact that I’d been wearing size 10s for several weeks I hadn’t quite got round to throwing out my size 12s. I’m an underwear hoarder – I have socks that are older than my kids.
I applied myself to the work at hand but I really wanted to know what size knickers I was wearing. I could, of course, have gone to the loo, but that would have meant negotiating the stairs again. Also the phone was ringing off the hook and I didn’t really have time.
I closed my office door, wedged my foot against it, grabbed the back of my knickers and twisted ’round to have a quick look. They were a 10.
I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t pleased.
Nevertheless, it left me with a problem: there was no way that I’d be able to negotiate the rest of the day in these knickers.
At lunchtime, having hoiked my size 10 (did I mention) knickers as high as possible I headed off to M&S. It’s about 1500 steps from my office to M&S. At the first road junction they were sliding.
With each step I desperately tried to work out what on earth I was going to do if they slid further. There were no pockets in my loose dress that could offer any assistance.
By the top of the High Street the situation was desperate. I was starting to perspire from the sheer panic. As I walked past the bank there was a long queue of people facing me. “Please god”, I thought, “not here”.
As I reached the end of the queue my knickers made a break for it. I had two options – let them go, step out of them and nonchalantly scoop them up or try to hold onto them without looking like I was walking along holding my knickers up.
As the right hand side slid to my mid thigh, I caught the left side with the hand clutching my handbag. In this position I could draw the least attention to my predicament.
With my handbag stapled to my leg and my fist full of a dress/knicker cocktail, I made it to M&S. There were slim pickings in the lingerie department. No black size 8s (4 in US sizing) graced the rails. There were tonnes of 12 – 20s. However, there were two white pairs in size 8 – so not enough to take advantage of the Knicker Deal.
I took the two pairs to the till. I’m always grateful to M&S to putting a till in the lingerie department. Invariably the bra and knicker section is next to the men’s department and I, for one, don’t want to stand in a queue clutching my undergarments among middle aged men purchasing dubious slacks.
I went up to the lady at the desk. “Sorry this till is closed you’ll have to go to the men’s department” she said, not sounding very sorry at all.
Still holding onto my own knickers for dear life I went over to the men’s department. You’ll be glad to know that I was careful to have the large ‘size 8’ label ON THE OUTSIDE. If puce faced men wanted to ogle my smalls then they were damn well going to see how bloody small they really were.
I paid and went to the loo to change.
I can honestly say that I have never, ever been so relieved to put knickers on in my entire life.
