Panty Panic

On to a mundane topic that causes more angst than the existential ones: underwear. Specifically, underwear for us middle aged gals. I didn't have to even think about this issue until recently, when it came time to replace my current crop of panties, haggard with stains, loose threads and spent elastic.

Off to JC Penny I went, where I've been buying the same brand of undies for two decades. They're called Adonnas, nice cotton panties with just the right amount of coverage (a design called hipsters) and a pleasing look. To my great dismay, I found that Adonnas have been discontinued. The sales clerk said many customers were similarly crushed. Indeed, a woman behind me was looking for them too, and we whined in unison at the bad news.

Our choices now are these: big waist-to-thigh bloomers suitable for the 19th century, or band aids with strings. These latter disappear into the folds of your (whatever) if you are carrying the least bit of extra poundage, making your hips and legs look like a stack of sausage links. The former scream "grandma." Neither does justice to the vibrant, vital, sexy women we still are.

A lot has been said about the dearth of appropriate clothing for women over 40. We have that polarized spectrum of choice again: baby doll outfits for teens and young 20s, or the kind of leisure wear often seen in retirement communities. The other option, one that could solve these clothing quandaries, is out of reach for the majority: the upmarket departments in stores like Nordstrom's or Macy's. If I had $2000 and style consultations from the What Not to Wear team, I'd look damn good all the time.

I will say I'm happy to see the tunic tops in stores these last few years. Tunics usually have stitching under the breasts and a deep neckline to accentuate the waist and shoulders. My blue, brown, and white Liz Claiborne tunic is the most flattering piece of clothing I own. Because the front hangs loose over the stomach and hips, there's lots of room for all body types underneath. Now all I have to do is get the corresponding image of maternity wear out of my mind.

(Art by Eric Gill, early 20th century.)