So Much Taboo, So Little Time

Recently I've made a drastic change to my wardrobe. I used to pride myself with keeping up with the fashion trends. I was the go-to girl to find out if the cool shoes had pointed toes or rounded toes. Even if I couldn't afford it, I always knew what the 'it' bag was, who had it and where you could get a knock off.

Then Sam was born and I quit my job. And I got pregnant again. Lately my wardrobe has consisted of clothes that seamlessly transition from day (also knows as things I wear to exercise and/or go to the grocery store) to night (also called pajamas). I have a handful of items that I can actually wear out of the house and not look like I'm headed to yoga, but none of this matters. The outward appearance remains the same. It's what's underneath that taken a turn.

You see, a few weeks ago SOB was working late on a friday night. There was nothing on the DVR, I had exhausted all 932 of the blogs I read daily and I was without a good book. I started flipping through the channels and landed on TLC, where Stacey and Clinton were telling a few ladies What Not To UnderWear. I used to wear a lot of cute string bikini style panties, but once I got deep into my first pregnancy, I started buying Gloria Vanderbilt underwear at BJ's. They were cheap and very comfortable, if not a bit large. I figured that once I wasn't pregnant anymore, I could toss them (since they'd be so stretched out from my expansive third trimester ass) and start fresh. I did end up getting rid of most of them, but since having a baby severely limits the time one can spend shopping for new and fancy undies, I ended up buying more when we were at BJ's on a diaper run.

According to Stacey and Clinton, one of the main fashion faux pas in underwear land are VPLs, or Visible Panty Lines. As you might imagine, my Gloria granny panties are visible from space in anything but ski pants. Since I currently live in the south, I don't get many chances to trot out my ski pants. Therefore I frequently subject the entire Atlanta metro area to my VPLs. Their solution?

The Thong.

I have always feared the thong. In high school, I though only people in Brazil wore them. In college, I became convinced that they were for sluts alone. Now a days, it seems like every single woman in the universe wears them. My mother wears a thong, and I will not even begin to discuss how I know that. To the old me, thongs were reserved for two occasions. First, when I was fairly certain I wouldn't be keeping them on for very long, wink wink. Second, only when absolutely necessary to save the silhouette of a lovely (and somewhat clingy) formal dress.

Say hello to the new me. Meet the Amy Jo that loves her some thong.

I decided after that sad friday night viewing that I was going to take a risk and try a thong or two. I sifted through my drawers and found the drawers I was looking for. Unfortunately, the thongs already in my possession were either incredibly impractical (those were the one usually, ahem, removed after mere moments) or no longer fit my post-pregnancy/currently pregnant hiney. I decided that running out and buying expensive new underwear I wasn't even sure I liked was silly, so I set out for Target, where I found several styles of thong panties for a reasonable price.

The rest, they say, is history. I now wear thongs at all times except when sleeping. The whole pregnancy thing makes for a lot of tossing and turning, which makes for a lot of wedgies. SOB loves it, and my pants look so much better without the VPLs, I'm sure. I'm planning to stick with the cheapies for now, but once numero dos comes along I'll start the task of buying nice new ones.

To add to the inappropriate nature of this post, please enjoy this picture of Sam taking a page from Wonder Baby's book. He has a phallic lovely all his own.


And finally, to ratchet up the dirty factor to eleven, go on over and read Kristen's Mominatrix post about dirty talk. This woman rules the internet, people.