(The story of my hot odyssey in Greece continues with the next post.)
IN WHICH WE’RE MAKING A POSITIVE CONTRIBUTION TO GLOBAL WARMING.
What’s more feminine than sexy lingerie? When it comes to lace, silk, satin, tulle, chiffon, crepe, ribbons and frills, this is where we ladies live: Ground Zero for the Girlie Girl. The fact that our sex alone can play Satin Doll — our lingerie clubhouse says emphatically “No Boys Allowed” — makes lingerie a devastating weapon in our Goddess armament. Because what’s more fatale than a femme in lace pumped with the GAS — Glamour, Attractiveness, Sexiness — to knock’em dead? We’ll slay’em to their foundations … with ours.
When I was a kid, just showing a bra strap or a half inch of petticoat was considered the height of trash. Enter the Eighties, and a Reagan era mercifully goosed by the Seventies punk legacy of fashion nihilism. Dressing turned inside out, as exemplified by Madonna and her brazen brassieres, taking exterior decorating to a new hot level of exposure.
Nowadays, a sighting of a bra strap is no longer a deal breaker for the Best Dressed list. Indeed, much of our unmentionables are not only mentioned — but starring — in outfits designed to give them their fifteen minutes, and more.
What used to be outré and the province of Frederick’s of Hollywood is now ho hum mainstream Victoria’s Secret, no longer a hushed confidence but a silky declaration broadcast proudly, chest thrust out (and pushed up, of course) with pride.
As much as men appreciate it, wear sexy lingerie for yourself, first. A line of alluring bras from one company is called “Date Night,” but I find this preposterous — every day presents a special opportunity to invite our Inner Goddess out to play — and may she be wearing a drop-dead glamorous camisole.
As I write this, it is afternoon and I’m sitting in one of my favorite public places. I’m wearing a cinnamon red maxi dress, and lookin’ good. But what takes my candy ass from Red Hot to Atomic Fireball status is what I have on underneath: red lace bra pushing my girls up and together, red bikini panties with multiple layers of tiny ruffles, red satin and lace slip with a slit up the side. Yes, I look sexy enough on the outside, but it’s my awareness of what’s underneath that sends out my three alarm vibration — it’s my lingerie that makes me a siren.
Pardon me, but my slip is showing — and isn’t that fabulous?
Yours truly,
