Did Someone Say Panties?

Searching for the holy grail of 40-plus underwear.

*This week’s About Time newsletter is written by Jessica Pallay. Check in next time for writing by Kaity Velez. For September and October we’ll being donating 30% to Lilith Fund, a non-profit organization that provides financial assistance and emotional support while building community spaces for people who need abortions in #Texas.

You can really tell a lot about a person’s age by their underwear drawer. It’s kind of like reading the rings on a tree trunk or the spots on a ladybug (actually an urban legend, but go with it); just count the number of thongs, boyshorts, or low rise hipsters and you’ve got a general indication of how long any given lady has been on this earth. 

I have to be honest, I talk about underwear A LOT. Give me a half hour and it will definitely come up in conversation (along with periods and lice). I’ve been known to send unsolicited links of my favorite brands to close friends and even gifted some particularly stellar postpartum panties to a select few. The perfect pair of underwear is just so darn elusive, and I want to talk about it...all...the...time.

I didn’t think or talk about underwear all that much when I was younger. It wasn’t really something that came up in conversation, and there were so many easily available options for my pre-aging body. Just about every pair of underwear out there fit, since like most fashion products, underwear is really made and marketed to people in their 20s. It was just a question of color and style preference.

Having babies changed everything. During pregnancy, things grew, stretched and got very very itchy. Then in postpartum, things leaked, ached and intermittently swelled. The great underwear replacement began: out with the thongs and french cuts, in with the fully-waterproof briefs.

As the kids grew, and my ladyparts healed, my underwear drawer saw yet another turnover. In the chaos that is motherhood, I started grabbing the easiest, cheapest underwear I could find. A sudden sneeze at Target, and I had to buy a 7-pack of Hanes on the spot. A lost suitcase in Montreal, and I had to stock up at the nearest Jean Coutu. An insomnia-induced Amazon shopping spree, and 2 days later, I had 12 new pairs of no-name hipsters from Shanghai on my doorstep. 

But now that I’m in my 40s, I have come to this realization: I deserve great fucking underwear. 

Most of the pairs I own are total zeros. I find myself sifting through my sea of underwear each morning, trying to find one that I actually want to wear. One that makes me feel mature, powerful, supported and, yes, happy. Like everything else we Konmaried during covid, my underwear drawer is due, and I’m ready to make the investment. But...on which pair?

Unlike bras, there are no underwear specialists. No fit experts or places you can go and get your vagina and tush measured, and then have someone bring back 12 pairs of underwear to try on. There’s nobody who can tell you that you’re actually wearing the wrong size, or advise you on which underwear will look best under which pair of jeans. This would be a great post-40 job for some enterprising entrepreneur.

If there was such a person (if you know of one, please share!), here’s an expansive, though non-exhaustive, list of what I’m looking for:

• Leak resistant. These underwear must be able to withstand a small accident due to laughing, jumping, sneezing, coughing, walking, talking or just generally not being able to get to the bathroom in time.

• Moisture-wicking. Once I have that small accident, I don’t want to have to feel that small accident.

• Period-proof. Because now that I am in my 40s, my period strikes any time, all the time, and never, and can be light, heavy or non-existent. It’s sort of like being 13 again. 

• Breathable. You guys. I just want my vagina to breathe. Whatever that means.

• Full coverage. Things wiggle and jiggle, and no amount of running will make that stop. Also, underwear lines feel very on trend right now.

• Machine washable. And I mean in any load. Don’t ask me to wash in cold water only, inside a delicate bag, with like colors. They’re fucking underwear.

• Cute. I want my husband to want to have sex with me, even though most of the time I’m too tired. Sorry babe.

So, where does this leave me? Still pining away for the perfect pair. Filling up then abandoning shopping carts online, scrolling Instagram for DTC ads, talking to all of YOU about underwear till your eyes glaze over. 

I’ll leave you with a couple I like (because I know you were just waiting for my list, right?) and can you share yours in the comments below? I’m just one great pair of underwear away from true happiness.

1. Dear Kate Hazel Hipster Mini, $38.00; 2. Hanro Cotton Waist Hipster $46; 3. Cuup High Waist, $24; 4. Knickey Organic Cotton Mid-Rise Hipster, $14; 5. Knix Super Leakproof Bikini, $30; 6. SheThinx High Waist, $38 

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Images of Kortney, David & Hayden via InTouch and Just Jared. (I love these celebs so much for adjusting their underwear in public.)