From the Underwear Drawer
So, let’s paint a little timeline – or rather, let me.
"Guess what I've got in here!"
After you’re born you wear diapers for some indeterminate period of years – hopefully two or three I’d guess before it’s time for pull-ups or some alternate “big boy/girl” undergarment. For purposes of this discussion I suppose I’ll be referring primarily to the male side of things owing to the fact that I’ve never been a girl and have never worn girl’s underwear – though I must say I do thoroughly enjoy and appreciate all of the subtleties and varieties that world has to offer.
Every four year old boy had a pair as soon as he could make it to the bathroom on his own
After the diaper and immediate post-diaper stage, your parent(s) inevitably will dress you up in probably the cheapest and least comfortable offerings at the local department store. In my case, these were Superman, Batman and Ninja Turtle patterned briefs followed in my latter youth by white Hanes briefs, or as the kindest hearted contemporaries will grow to call them “tighty-whities”. Tight though they may seem while being worn, or from an onlookers unkind perspective, it’s really never so tight as they get when an older kid or asshole cousin gives you a wedgie for the first time. That breeds a resentment for your mother and father that may or may not ever dissipate – cuz holy shit is that an uncomfortable sensation. Not only are your [private parts] slammed together in the most unnatural way imaginable, you’ve also been shamed and overpowered in a way you were never prepared for. Your underwear is torn, your midsection hurts, and so surely does your pride. It’s a seriously cruel world ladies and gentlemen, and there’s nothing like your first wedgie to remind you of that – but I digress.
Nobody has ever once found these sexy
So, whether you like your Hanes or not, they’re all you know and you persist with them until. . well let’s see
1) You can no longer take the abuse in the locker room
2) You get “pantsed” in front of a crowd and the cat is let out of the bag that you haven’t yet made the logical leap to whatever the next step is in the underwear lineage
3) You have your first semi-sexual encounter with a girl who laughs or scoffs graciously when you take your pants down to reveal a pair of underwear that should have been discarded or burned long ago
Surely by this point some subset of your peers have begun wearing boxer shorts, it’s really all a matter of time one way or the other until you give in and make the switch – and then, my GOD what freedom! Your nuts and bolts can breathe, the waist band is far less constricting and there’s virtually no risk of a traditional wedgie – though of course assholes will always find a way to make you grievously uncomfortable with whatever you’ve chosen to don.
Ah the beloved three pack. Nothing screams sophomore in high school like plaid boxers
So, take your balls and run with it, right? Yeah – maybe you can’t go wrong with your boxers for a number of years. You will undoubtedly make some adjustments for comfort and style purposes – upgrade to a few more expensive really soft pairs that you save for nights when you’ll be wearing nicer clothing or more likely to be taking your clothes off with a member of whatever sex you choose to get naked with and that’s how you roll for a little while.
Then another change occurs – the times change, you change, whatever the case is and you’re wearing slightly tighter jeans or pants than you have previously. You find yourself in situations where having the waistband of your boxers peaking out is no longer really socially acceptable. You end up in bed with a slightly older, more sophisticated individual who tells you it’s time for another shift in perspective and “once you make the change you’ll never go back” – and it’s off to Macy’s to get some boxer briefs and try that shit out for awhile. You’re skeptical, and it was nothing short of miraculous when you found your way to boxers – who needs to change away from that, you ask? What does his/her opinion matter anyway? “Fuck that” you say – and then off to secretly go buy one package of what’s been recommended. Let’s see what the fuss is about, you say.
It turns out of course, that she was right and you can’t go back. The confluence of boxers and briefs and the ease with which you can pull up your skinnier jeans without bunching or reaching down into your pants to adjust every three minutes like your grandfather after a big dinner is fucking phenomenal. Stock up and stock up, but don’t throw away your boxers – you never know when you’ll need a backup pair after a busy week and no laundry and seriously, if this experiment doesn’t work out you want to be able to go back, it’s like insurance – or security.
Trying to find a picture of boxer briefs without an exposed man in them is considerably more difficult than it should be
But you get pretty used to the boxer briefs and actually grow to like them – maybe you even start working out a little more often to fit them a little better and relish the response when you get a new person in bed that admires your decision.
And then there’s the day when your laundry DOES run out, and you do have to wear boxers and it’s like starting over. That all but forgotten, unfamiliar feeling of a constant almost-erection and having to adjust and fidget to make sure everything is in its right place. You wonder how on earth this was ever your garment of choice – things are just too free to move around, so out of control. How could you ever get anything done this way?
But wasn’t that once exactly what you wanted? To be free and a little out of control? To stray from the choices that had been made for you and let things run wild for a little while?
What it boils down to – or what I guess I’m trying to say is that in life, as in underwear you’re pretty much free to switch between briefs, boxers and boxer briefs freely for most of your life as it fits your lifestyle and comfort level and it’s more or less nobody’s choice but yours. Alright, perhaps your significant other will ask you to wear something specific at some point in your life that you might not have opted for on your own dime, but even that can’t be so bad.
I guess the only time it’ll ever again be painful to switch between undergarments is when it’s time to start wearing diapers again. Funny how things seem to start and end in such similar places.
