That'll do, very expensive lingerie. That'll do.

By Alex

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The other day I spent more than a day's wages on a (as in one single) bra from Agent Provocateur. Without getting too sassy and SATC, I will simply ask: why do chicks do this? I've spoken to seemingly-reasonable women who spend something like £1000 per year on undergarments, and yet lingerie is something that no one sees, ever, unless they do, in which case, if it is doing its job right, it won't be on for longer than four minutes tops. I have a couple theories I'm playing around with here.

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Lingerie is a vestige of something olden-timey, like spats or TB. When girls wear tonnes of unnecessary garmentry, they are embracing part of their history, and consequently their artistic identity. But the intrinsic beauty in that is they don't have to put it on display for the wide world to see like Dita Von Ret-Teese-Tard or some steampunk asshole.

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I guess this only counts for single girls, or chicks with a non-predictable pattern for getting boned, but going all out on lingerie is like carrying an umbrella. You probably won't need it. At worst it is functionally cumbersome. But at best, and if you play the odds right and wear shit like this consistently every single day, then when that hot half-Korean dude at American Apparel decides it's time to clock out (and clock in to your vagina) you'll be like some sexy Christmas present. This isn't rocket science.

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People spend money to make themselves feel more important than other people. In some cases this means that ten seconds of consumer high will manifest itself as a week of surviving off nibbles of your Canadian flatmate's spaghetti when she's in the other room downloading Battlestar Galactica, or selling all your Xanax.

THE A-TRAIN

By Alex 3 years ago

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