So this is not a joke but how many of you have 40 minutes panties or knickers? I have. You all know what I mean by 40 minute panties. It's that lovely pair of knickers that you have. They feel soft and are snug to wear, they might have a flash of laciness and are oh so sexy. They hold the bits back that need it and they make you feel fabulous.
For about 40 minutes.
Then all you want to do is get them off. The first signs will be when you are on public transport and helpless. They start to magically shrink on you. Instead of holding back your belly they slide under the bulge and you are left feeling flabby instead of sleek. Or sometimes they just start to wander. For me, usually it's that they start to wander up. I am left with that oh so elegant look of having to reach behind and tug them from my arse-crack surreptitiously. Usually it involves a trip to the bathroom with some frantic tugging and settling them on my hips with the threats that they are not to ride up again. They behave for a few minutes then get bored and have to start wandering again.
I think it's because they love the attention. They absolutely love to be the centre of attention. When you are in the shop looking to buy, they are coy but pert with it: they know you want them and are playing hard to get. Then when you succumb they are still soft and gentle, you might get them out and carress them waiting for that special day when you can wear them for the first time.
So the day arrives and you put them on all proud and strutty in your lovely panties and you forget that you are wearing them because they are so perfect. Then after 40 minutes . . .