supercrisis

Here's a story about my underwears.

When I was growing up and started attending school I developed a severe disliking of briefs, or tighty-whities, even though they were often blue At my present age they are sometimes called ball-huggers, and not without reason. I found them to be so uncomfortable that I spend a lot of my 'formative years' going commando, although at the time I didn't realize that there was a name for it. I was either too young for boxers, but I doubt it, more likely they just didn't make them for boys when/where I was growing up. Which is actually where I still live, if you can believe that.

Now, having no layer between your delicates and a pair of pants can be quite uncomfortable, especially if you're wearing jeans or some other rough fabric. Jeans were double hazardous because they have zips, which can be used for unintentional circumcision if you're not paying attention. I wasn't the sort for attention at that age, but luckily I didn't get more than a pinched pee-pee.

To get around this trouble I also spent most of those 'formative years' wearing sweat pants. For five of the six elementary years I was attending a private Christian school and so I didn't catch too much static over the affair. I did, however, always harbour a fear (that was realized a few times) of having my pants yanked to my ankles, with everything exposed to see. This was made doubly easy when you consider that most sweats have little more than a draw string or elastic band. No belt loops, dears.

Eventually the financial burden of private schooling collapsed my parents and I got shifted into public school for the rest of my years. I remember being promised a remote control vehicle as compensation for being pulled away from all my friends, and saviour, etc.

I don't think I ever got it. Though I did get Star Trek action figures once for getting my back all scraped up by the allergy doctor. That's a few more stories right there. And proof of my intense geekery.

Back to the drawers. When I arrived in the loathsome grade six, I started to get harassed about my pants a lot. Eventually I garnered the title "sweatpants-man" which was sang to the tune of the old 60's Spider-Man, though I don't they got past the lyrics:

"Sweatpants-Man, Sweatpants-Man, does whatever a Sweatpants can."

As pathetic as that was, it had an effect on me. I rummaged around in the closet until I found some dress pants that I used to wear to church, which I wore to school the next week. I began to wear, sorta, normal pants after that. Although I will confess a penchant for wearing all sorts of fancy-pants. Even without the legs for the stuff I really wanna wear. Yes, I have very short legs. I am at peace. And it made me learn how to use a sewing machine, because I invariably hem every pair of pants I buy.

At some point, after the switch to fastened pants, I found myself wearing boxer shorts on a regular basis. I was mostly comfortable with them, even if they did wear out the crotch and cost more than briefs for some odd reason. At least the ones with prints that aren't bad wallpaper.

I spent probably the next six to eight years wearing boxers. Slowly moving from pair to pair, always seemingly living with one pair less than I needed, which led to horrible (and smelly) recycling of already worn undies... Yes I'm ashamed. Yes I've stocked up and it doesn't happen anymore. Except when I'm denied access to a washing machine, at which point I usually switch to commando. If it's summer.

Now, having passed both ages of adulthood and having started thinking about everything that life expects of me and I expect of it, I've made yet another switch in my sub-pants attire. Having read an article by (some-time) mentor Lance Arthur I began to decide that boxer shorts weren't really for me. It started with a pair of delicious pants that I found. They were so tight to the legs that to wear them with boxer shorts left a huge clump of crumpled fabric around my thighs, and I don't have to say it looked ridiculous. Except that I just did. I decided it'd be a good idea to score a pair of briefs for the days I wanted to wear the pants.

These pants are still one of my favourite pairs, although between stretching and exercise they aren't as snug as they used to be, which is actually not something I'm happy about. It was at this point that I started to aggressively move out of my baggy-pants phase, which I had been stuck in too long. As I talked about earlier, I'm a short guy, like Tom Cruise (hah) and so wearing baggy pants only makes me look shorter. I don't wear lots of vertical stripes or thick heeled shoes or anything, but I try to buy clothes that keep my proportions pleasing to the eye. They (scientists) did a study a while ago and it turns out proportions are more important than overal measurements.

I also give the pants credit for a night of great sex. It was priceless to hear my ex-girlfriend say "I like those pants on your probably more than I should."

Those pants caused me to buy more pants that gave my lower half a little bit more shape, and flattered my legs. I'm especially fond of pants that are tight on the knees. And so now I'm suddenly finding myself wearing brief cut underwear. And what's more, I'm liking it. I find myself wearing them more often than a pair of ratty old boxers.

Then, I pulled another note from the article and bought myself two pairs of sexy, sexy, sexy shorts, which are like micro boxers made out of a silky, spandexy material. They feel soooo smooth over skin and the red pair are my favourite underwear. The only trouble? They cost about $25 a pair, so stocking up on them would be fun, and expensive. One day I'll be able to fit both of those things into a sentance that I can act upon.

So, long story short (if you got this far I should sum it up) I went from tights to commando to boxers to tights to hot pants. Who knew my underwear could make for a story?

Picture? Why not!