Above are varying degrees of briefs, but not my preferred granny panty or GP.
Image sourced from http://christie-craig.com/blog/?p=522.
Let’s start right out by abbreviating America’s classic, plain, cotton, basic, waist high lady’s underwear known as Granny Panties to the “GP.” I can’t believe I am advising you to embrace the big GP, but in truth, my return to the underwear of my youth has been very liberating in the form of simple comfort and joy. I feel like one of those happy woman smiling to herself in a douche commercial while walking through endless flower gardens with birds twittering all around.
It’s important to note that my happiness might be because I have found a brand of GPs that really stay in place. I seem to remember the old girls riding up back in the day and that sure wasn’t ideal to have all that material lodged in-between one’s cheeks. I believe the term was “bunched up.”
This is one secure pair of panties!
Note, cotton panel for extra comfort and breathability.
The nation moved to the bikini brief around the time hip huggers came into vogue. Believe it or not the bikini was actually invented in my lifetime. It was a natural progression. And, even though, performers have been flaunting g strings for years, these barely there panties hit the public at large around the same time as the thong. I always thought the primary motivation was twofold. One aspect would eliminate nasty panty lines under one’s clothes and also present a sexy surprise once clothes were removed. This could, at times, create a bit of confidence and excitement for the wearer.
But over time, I mean the long haul, the thrill was gone for me replaced by moderate discomfort as my menopausal belly flowered into being. And let’s face it, no matter what, there was some amount of material lodged in-between one’s butt checks. The lack of this is very freeing. So at this point, only the granny will grace my fanny!
GP come in many makes and styles.
Apparently I am not alone: Starlets are choosing the GP to wear under clothes that are barely there. http://www.venusbuzz.com/archives/8213/fashion-trend-alert-the-granny-panties/ I'm even behind the times as the popular television series, "Mad Men," had already highlighted the GP, and that show's run is ending this year! http://www.thegloss.com/2010/08/09/fashion/would-you-wear-granny-panties-apparently-mad-men-just-made-them-hip/ And to some my GP don't cut it:
Even as bare as the C string is, there is still the matter of material up your butt: image sourced from http://www.buzzfeed.com/juliegerstein/the-c-string-makes-the-average-thong-look-like-granny-pantie?bffbstyle#.jr87R0VLY
This is my namesake many moons ago
at the same beach where I grew up in Sea Girt NJ.
Have you ever taken the time to break your feet in? I mean so you can run around barefoot? I did this each summer as a kid and even a few as an adult.
If you were never prone to this activity, boy, did you miss out. But at my age now, toughened callouses seem to grow all on their own … in my shoes. What’s that all about?
It’s about aging dear ones.
It’s not you. It’s your age. Feet come equipped with these super cool cushions inside the bottoms that wear out as we age. Suddenly, “Ow!”
I can honestly say that it took until I was 59 years old to have real moving boobs.
Before this, my chest just stood there on, well, on my chest. Okay, pause, maybe there might have been a possible bit of bounce during periods of rapid movement such as running or leaping. I said bounce, not jiggle. What’s the difference? Bounce is vertical in nature and the jiggle more of a horizontal movement.
Consider that I started out like any other girl ... flat chested. I distinctly remember seeing the multi-talented actress/singer/vixen Ann Margaret’s photograph show up in a magazine at our house on the New Jersey Shore. I thought, wow, so that is what women look like. Translation - this is what I will look like one day. I don't believe many girls think they are going to grow up and look like their mothers, even if it is obvious that they are going to grow up and look like their mothers. We tend to see ourselves as separate from our mothers, even when we are girls. Our mother is instead this beacon, this icon, this, this … life force … this woman.
Thinking I was to grow up to look like Ann Margaret, wasn't about that sensuous face and big voluminous red hair. Instead, it was about one day having womanliness, which included her full bosom right under my nose. Well, a bit lower. And it would be my own full bosom.
I even practiced as a little girl, actually wearing naval oranges under my shirt. Today’s girls would have to use grapefruits or melons. But back in the 1960s, oranges were big!
So, the years went by, slowly, as these tend to do in one’s childhood, and … nothing, except the occasional sound of crickets. Meaning, I waited and waited; but the breasts, when they finally did come, were more like bee stings or some raised, swollen flesh. Then one year, tiny pyramids suddenly started to jut out of my upper frontal body. Next, a couple of cones appeared. One went east and the other west. In between was the great divide.
It was sad.
What I thought to be a standard issue bosom, was a wash.
Now, consider that I never gave birth. That's a big miss for a woman. No maternal weight gain, no giant milk engorged breasts. Just the same old “nothing much going on,” until one day in my forties, I noticed I had these rock hard, let’s say size B verging on a C cup round breasts. I was single at the time, and these twins were so impressive, I really wanted to show someone. Anyone. But that wasn’t what a woman of my generation would do, especially if one was the standard, catholic school girl issue.
Anyway, as I approached my fifties I had my first real significant weight gain. And, at first, I enjoyed this, as again, I had missed being pregnant and giving birth (more on that subject in another post).
The only other time I had any significant weight gain, was right after I got married and injured my knees running long distance. I packed on 10 pounds, and wow, my clothes didn’t fit. But this later weight gain, was more like 30 pounds, plus. I went from a size 6 to a 12, without experiencing any size in between. Six. Twelve. The nice part was that I was very proportionate at first; before the menopausal stomach set in. The top down end result was big American breasts or C’s verging on D’s, as my friend Kim would say.
“Sure, I had a boob job,” I’d say, “It didn’t cost me anything, instead I simply gained 30 pounds. And, you can, too!”
So, recently, I went on this four week diet where I lost a solid 8 pounds. It was a speed up your metabolism eating plan. It had promised that I would lose inches, too. And, I did! My body really firmed up, but at the same time my breasts started to gain this movement. This sway. This feeling I had never experienced before … breasts with real lateral give?
I haven’t tried a full swing, but I could and report back.
The bottom line or is that top line, is that I may now have another feature that is going to require maintenance or looking after?
What’s up or down with your breasts?
Check out this link for an overview of pop body types in history: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/01/28/women-ideal-body-types-history-buzzfeed_n_6566254.html?pbx=25&ncid=fcbklnkushpmg00000010
As the elder stateswoman of the barren housewives+ of Onondaga County, I realize it behooves me to illuminate and educate those who have crossed over into womanhood and beyond. No longer will you be shocked and stunned by the many surprises of aging gratefully. Instead, the reveals will be cataloged right here for your perusal. Consider it a guide, consider it a manual, it's your choice. Your welcome.
