“What Does Your Underwear Say About You?” would probably be the title to some Cosmo article outlining that cotton pants mean you’re sensible and pragmatic, No-VPL thongs mean you’re determined for success and brightly-coloured lace means “Oh my gosh, you are so flirty and fun!”
Jokes aside, in light of the Victoria Secret fashion show being aired on TV in a matter of hours, as well as the upcoming exhibition on underwear at the V & A, my ideas on underwear and “What it says about you” have been pulled and tugged this way and the other.
“How dare Victoria’s Secret portray woman as sexual objects!”
“How dare the Victorians pigeon-hole female sexuality into crippling corsets and chastity belt-esque pantaloons!”
See the problem here? Despite my best efforts, underwear has such institutionalised connotations, it is hard to pinpoint where I stand. Whilst some feminists criticise the sexualisation of women as mere objects of both voyeurism and desire, others applaud the liberation of the sexual woman. The contradicting personalism of underwear is perfectly captured in John Donne’s poem, ‘Elegie: Going to Bed’. “Off with that girdle,” the speaker orders, “unlace yourself[…] / Full Nakedness! All joyes are due to thee, / As souls unbodied, bodies uncloth’d must be/ To taste whole joyes.” Within a matter of moments, both a reduction of the woman to a naked body and the freeing of her sexual soul occur. The shedding of underwear in Renaissance literature is often seen as a reminder of the female body and its absolute corporeality, as natural and earthly. However, the male narrator of the poem may be biased in seeing that a sexualised woman is a free one; she is sexualised at his command, for his pleasure, she is not free at all. In her essay, “Classy Lingerie“, Merl Storr explores underwear as a superfluous indicator of class. Underwear, at its core purpose, is for warmth, and so anything other than stockings and linen shifts becomes a “child of capitalism” (Wilson 1985). If underwear is thus another product of consumerism and display of wealth, then surely underwear does say a lot about women’s sexual freedom. As a “child of capitalism”, are we being fed and profited off a sexual ideal, or are modern fashions liberating and innovating the traditional one? If sexually liberated underwear fully dissipates female ideals, does it then become paradoxically, simply another rule and regulation women have to fit?
I ran my own mini experiment with three of my friends to work out this conundrum. I gave them three pictures: one of white cotton pants, one of a slinky frilly thong, and one of lace French knickers. Here are my results. All recognised that the comfy pants were great for days where you need comfort (It’s kinda in the name, no?), two said that the lace French knickers would be what they wore everyday as they were comfy and sexy and one said thongs were her favourite. Whilst I wasn’t surprised at all that the majority opted for the best of both worlds with pantie no. three, I was quite surprised that often their judgement was based on what other people thought on seeing them in their underwear, mainly their sexual endeavours. All three of my friends said they wouldn’t be best pleased if a boy caught them in their white cotton briefs. Of course, none of them would say that thongs make you slutty and briefs make you prude (stereotypes eh?), but still the underlying thought that someone else might be turned off by which underwear they put on in the morning.
So, it seems that there is sense of a 360-degree turn in underwear and its gender roles. The chaste, pure underwear fashions of the 19th century has given way to its flirtier, fun older sister of the 21st. However, I think there is an important difference in the two gender roles of underwear. Modern day feminism, as said above, tackles the idea that women are either sexual commodities, or completely de-sexualised. But, for me, personally, if I were made to choose one of these ideals, it would be, like my friends, the more sexual one. Of course, I am not saying that gender roles should just be accepted as is, but what I am saying is that sexy underwear at least recognises some part of the woman that has been ignored for centuries. Yes, it is ok to wear Bridget Jones pants! But, in a world where masculinity, femininity and gender are just starting to break down, yet still remain very much institutionalised, at least the popular underwear of the 21st century is both giving us a choice and a sexual voice.
(Feature Image: Cartoonstock.com)