Ladies underwear has come a long way: big and small, lacey and plain, cotton panel and sans cotton panel (sounds so much better than "crotchless.") I've never quite wrapped my brain around the newer models, i.e. thongs and such. they look more like dental floss and a doll hankie. For all you newbies, the thinnest piece of fabric (or string) goes in the back. That's right. In the back, in the crack. Crazy you say? Crazy like a fox says Victoria's Secret. And, by the way, her Secret is that nobody over a size 4 looks good in those things.

I dunno, maybe it's just me. I spend half my day pulling my underwear OUT of my ass. Why would I deliberately place a pink shoelace back there? Don't misunderstand. I'm not a fan of those big, white cotton granny panties. My undies of choice are called the "hi-thigh cut hipster." I ask you, how fetching does that sound? I may be looking at the downslide to 50, but I'm still wearing "hipster" underwear. Mind you, they're a size 7. That's another thing that bugs me. If my underwear is a size 7, why is it that I cannot fit one leg into size 7 jeans? I mean, what is up with that? Does this mean that women who wear size 7 jeans actually wear a size 2 panty? Does the thickness of the panty material somehow comprise 5 sizes? Could goddess be so cruel?

One of the downsides of being a large woman, (and trust me, there are several) is that when undies are a size 7 or larger, the leg holes are almost as big as the waist. No lie. Wish I was joking here, but alas, it's true. Also true, is that when these openings are of similar size, it's more than a little easy to say, slip them on one morning slightly askew.

There, I said it.

On more than one occasion, I have found myself wearing my undies caddy-wompass. The thing is, it's not immediately apparent. Takes a few hours for your hip/thigh/waist to call a joint meeting and gently poke you in the crotch, speaking in voices barely above a whisper, "'scuse us. We hate to be a bother, but certain parts of us are choking down here . . . and not in a good way." Hopefully one is not in the middle of Target when this happens, as a quick trip to the ladies room is almost always eminent. I've often wondered what women think when they see me go into the stall, completely "drop trou" as they say, and then—very ballerina like—(or not) step out of my undies, give them a quick spin, then step back in and pull up my jeans.

You simply cannot make this stuff up. And next time: The dreaded 'boxers or briefs' controversy . . . do guys like their junk all loosey goosey or tighty whitey? You be the judge.