Big Girl Panties by Jennifer Nachshen

Tears were prickling in my eyes as I hung up the phone. I had gone on a few blissful dates with Steven*, the quirky engineer with a great sense of humour. We’d walked all over town, sharing stories and laughing. I was sure it was going well, until he called me and told me he just wasn’t interested in seeing me anymore. I’d heard it all before, but this one was a doozy. “I just don’t have feelings…for people,” he’d said. I was incredulous. But we’d had such a good time? “Yes,” he admitted “I like to act like I’m having a good time, but in the end, I’d just rather be on my own.”

This wasn’t the first time a budding relationship had ended before it even began. I felt like I was in a rut. My no-nonsense British mother advised me “Don’t get your knickers in a twist about this one. He sounds like a sociopath.” Later that night I commiserated over the phone with another single friend who’d been experiencing her own romantic disappointments…“We just have to keep going,” she’d encouraged. “We put our big girl panties on and get back out there until the right guy comes along.” They were both right. Still, it felt like I was doing something wrong. Maybe I was reading into it too deeply, but from both of their advice, it seemed to have something to do with my underwear.

The next day I took to organizing my lingerie drawer. My mother’s counsel rang true. My knickers were in a twist, mangled together in a hopeless shambles. I threw out the old, tattered granny panties that I never wore anymore (why was I keeping them?) and evaluated the remaining pairs. Which ones were my big girl panties? I tried on an elegantly seamless nude thong, but it didn’t inspire. Even my black cotton g-string with a tattoo-esque design on the front bearing the motto “play nice” seemed silly and adolescent. And my lacy pair from that big panty purveyor we know so well? Itchy, uncomfortable, and inappropriate. How was I ever going to be a big girl without big girl panties?

A few days later a sleek box arrived in the mail bearing the stamp PantyByPost. Ironically, I had ordered my commitment package of 12 monthly deliveries when I thought things with Steven were starting to head toward the bedroom. Although I was proud that I had never let that bum into the Promised Land, I felt a bit sorry for myself that I had this new fancy underwear and no one to see it.

I peeled open the box and took out the most beautiful lace thong in deep purple. The lace was soft to the touch and, as I slid them over my hips, I noted that they were the perfect fit. Instantly I felt a little bit sexier than I had since that awful phone call. I wanted to wear them right away, but the only plan I had that night was drinking Mojitos with the girls. But if these truly were my big girl panties, there was no better time to wear them than the present.

But lingerie like that needed preparation. After a luxurious bubble bath I reached to the back of my bathroom drawer for the Very Expensive shimmer cream I had bought a few months ago when I was going out with Ashton, the tall, dark and handsome guy with the sarcastic sense of humour. He’d liked the way my skin glowed, but ended things when he began to fall into a depression. Apparently, I reminded him of his ex-wife (I hadn’t known there was one until then). I hadn’t used the cream, since, but this felt like the right time. Fully moisturized and shimmering, I pulled on the sexy aubergine panties.

It just didn’t feel right to cover them with a pair of jeans. I looked through my closet and found the black silk mini-dress I had bought in California at a friend’s wedding. I had been flirting with one of the groom’s friends, and he had been flirting back. I bought the dress at the last minute to replace the matronly shift I had been planning to wear to the rehearsal dinner, hoping to seal the deal. Later I found out he had a girlfriend back home. I hadn’t worn the dress since. I thought it might be over-dressed for tonight’s festivities, but I didn’t care. I felt fantastic. And it seemed like a delicious secret that only I would know what was underneath.

A dress like that needed a pair of fabulous shoes, and I put on my highest heels with the peep-toes. “This just won’t do” I thought, as I looked at my bare toes. I looked to the back of my fridge where I kept the fire-engine red nail polish I had bought after Rick told me he liked red nails. After telling me I had a great personality (awwww…sweet!), perfect legs (an exaggeration!), and that he couldn’t wait to introduce me to his family (outright lie!), he had simply disappeared. I hadn’t worn the polish since, but after carefully applying it to my toes; I admitted that it was perfect for the outfit.

After a quick shake of my hair and a blast of perfume, I was ready to hit the town with my besties. As I walked out the door I made a promise to myself. From now on, I would always wear my big girl panties. And never again would I date a guy who still needed pull-ups.

Thanks, PantyByPost!

* All names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.