Foundations, foundations, foundations
In this time of economic upheaval when we all share a feeling of angst in our collective pants we are prone to retreat to the sofa of self-preservation and comfort-eat ourselves silly. One Friday, when my parents had opted for the Indian take away cure-all, my mother attempted to pay the expressionless cashier with a pair of black lacy knickers she had pulled from the cavernous depths of her handbag. The cashier gazed, unfazed, as my mother tried to convince onlookers that she had not intended to offer her underwear, or any other services hinted at, in exchange for a lamb korma, but carried the offending item with her just ‘in case’. “There’s nothing worse than being without clean knickers,” she explained. Or with, in this instance. And yet she had a point – when it gets down to it, we all need to get back to basics and think: foundations, foundations, foundations.
In my quest for a more ethical and eco-friendly wardrobe the question of underwear has proved somewhat problematic. And I’m not talking fancy fripperies – you know, those cobweb-like affairs made by fairy-fingered folk entirely for the benefit of the beholder, with little care for the Ruben-esque curves they should be holding. I’m talking the bread and butter of your underwear collection, which should be like a lover: comfortable, reliable and effective. And, if like me, you have more dash than cash, affordable too.
Part 1: Bras
We’ll work from the top down. This week we’ll talk about bras.
Multi-Breasted Fertility Goddess Syndrome (MFG)
Many a splendid breast is being let down by an unwise choice of bra. A lot has been said about the perils of VPL (‘visible pantie line’ for those of you still unaware), but the subject of the many multi-breasted fertility goddesses roaming the streets is hardly mentioned. MFG is, in my humble opinion, one of the biggest enemies of the stylish ensemble. Yes, the whole deciphering your cup-size thing can be a little daunting, and I guess some, like the woman on the 133, may even be tempted to let them all hang out, long, limp and pendulous – but ladies, the cleavage should always be situated around the upper chest area and not risk being sat on by a fellow passenger.
To be honest I’ve had my fair share of trouble with bras on buses, notably with my first bra (more wishful thinking than breast-ful needing I have to admit ) , which, having so little to cling onto gave up the ghost, released itself from its moorings and displayed its wrinkled, white, deflated self about my neck like a pair of sad old balloons left over from a party. I’m sorry to say my years of bra-blems are not over and I am often forced to endure the errant bra strap scenario, which encourages a sort of lopsided shrug in order to keep it in check – think Quasimodo.
Like a glove...
And once you’ve got yourself a reliable bra which fits like a glove, then remember: one bra does not fit all occasions. Obviously there’s the whole strapless / backless consideration, but colour is also important. I once had to swap bras with my sister, in a nightclub lavatory, because she had worn white beneath a black top, resulting in her breasts glowing like Belisha Beacons in the ultra violet lighting – rumour has it she was the inspiration behind Electric Six’s video for Danger! High Voltage.
Bra-sics – Where to go for the green, the good and the glamorous:
Greenfibres Green goddesses go here
Figleaves – Green Leaves is every Eve’s fave eco undies department
Ciel – Organic undies
Sleek ‘n’ Chic – Vintage va va voom
Next time we’ll be talking pants!
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Adventuress Undressed 