In lingerie, I feel totally disguised
"Down Below" - a column by Meike Winnemuth
The column comes from the book "To make it short" with the best stories of journalist and author Meike Winnemuth. Knaus Verlag, 208 pages, 16.99 euros.
At one of these parties, which ended at four in the morning with the Flambier Cognac of the hosts, I once met a marketing specialist from a laundry manufacturer who had a circus-ready number on it: She was able to turn every present woman upside down on what kind of underwear she wore. Even better, which she wore that evening, which was usually during the day and which ten years ago. "Okay, you there: balcony bra with no matching panties, surefire white, probably Malizia, usually Calida, once Sloggi, rather pastel - no, stop: rather washed out You: 100 percent cotton, 100 percent of the time the boil-proof type: you're now underwired bra, for the sake of your friend, otherwise always jogging bras, you find your breasts annoying. " The described people nodded shocked to ashamed; Some had to check what exactly they were wearing, and then nod even more shamefully.
When I asked her about the trick, she said after a long look ("Hanro, black, right?"): "I do not know myself. Posture, hairstyle, appearance, heel, if anyone drinks wine or cocktails, like a lot of rings, stuff like that ... You can usually read the underwear on the eyes of a woman, but I'm not sure about you, you're a boy-cut from the top, but it looks like it's string. "
Underwear or, as we say North German slippers, I find even after several decades of being a woman still a difficult topic. With the figure of a leptosome 15-year-old, bras have interested me theoretically all those years, because so-called "beautiful laundry" with small pink bows and small white ruffles on me looks as if knots garlands on a high-voltage mast knots. Maybe that's why it's just pure jealousy that the word "lingerie" does not sound sexy to me, but to erotic carnival, after strained discomfort, scratchy polyester tip and despair: your marriage has fallen asleep? Buy some nice lingerie and light a candle.
Spend 180 euros for a few square centimeters? Nope!
The job of underwear for me is to make what you wear over it look as good as possible. Tragically, underwear that looks good under clothes is never underwear that looks good without clothes. Strings: great under jeans, terrible without jeans, when they suddenly expose a few pale buttocks that urgently need to go back to the gym. Conversely, top bras: adorable in themselves, but absolutely trashy, when they stand out among T-shirts. So you have to choose between clothes that look well-dressed and ones that look good naked. And considering how many percent of his lifetime you only walk in underwear through hopefully well heated rooms, the bill is actually quite simple, right?
But eroticism, lingerie advocates will now object. And that you spoil yourself when you wear something beautiful underneath. I'm a big fan of self-indulgence, but spend 180 euros for a few square centimeters of lace, which you put on with cotton gloves and immediately wash with baby shampoo after wearing - no, that's not part of it. And finally, also this insight after several decades of being a woman: You do not have to seduce men, you just have to get undressed as quickly as possible, that's usually enough. He will not have the slightest idea what you were still wearing.
