Intimate Encounters: Silk and Lace

 

When I was a sophomore, I went on this lingerie kick. Spent every dollar I made on 

anything I could get my hands on. Corsets, garters, thigh highs, teddies, babydolls, 

matching bra and panty sets. I even caved and bought crotchless panties (mistake) and 

nipple tassels (bigger mistake). I don’t know why. I was single at the time. It’s not like I 

had someone to impress. I just thought it would be really sexy to get a collection going. 

It was a little ridiculous. My friends would come try on my corsets and start planning 

their Halloween costumes for the following year. I was so proud of myself. Gemma, 

lingerie collector! It sounded like an official title. And then, the day came. I was finally 

going to be able to use one of my getups.

I was going out to dinner with this guy and I was pretty sure we’d be headed back to his 

place afterwards. I spent hours pouring over my collection, deciding on the perfect 

ensemble. I settled on black thigh highs, a matching red lace bra and panty set, and a 

white garter. I looked killer. I accented my cleavage with some bronzer and threw on a 

dress. It wasn’t until I caught myself in the reflection of a car window at the restaurant’s 

parking lot that I realized my dress was completely see through. The guy hadn’t noticed, 

but as soon as we walked into the restaurant I saw the hostess’s eyes widen. Please, 

please, please don’t kick us out. I know I look so ratchet right now. Please, please, 

please. She must have smelled the fear wafting off of me because she took us to our 

table without a word. Well, I was so nervous I blew dinner and he dropped me off 

without so much as a “See you around.” I was mortified.

Skip ahead to junior year. I start dating this guy. I knew to avoid the lingerie under real 

clothing, so I went over to his place one night and wore another similar ensemble under 

a long coat. I took it off as soon as I walked in the door. He looked at me over his 

glasses and said, “Really? You’re in the arts and that’s as creative as you can get?” I 

was even more mortified than the last time! He laughed and scooped me into his arms 

and kissed my nose. “Gemma. You don’t need that. I just want you.” I melted. And later 

that night as we were brushing our teeth, stealing glimpses at each other in the mirror, 

my hair a complete disaster, I realized that no matter what marketing departments want 

us to believe, we really just crave each other. Not some flimsy piece of fabric.

I still have my collection and I pull it out from time to time. Sometimes I’ll wear the 

corsets if I’m feeling risqué. But honestly, I’m at my best in Hanes cotton underwear and 

an oversized sleepy shirt.

Xx, Gemma

 

*Need hooking-up advice but you can’t ask anyone you know? Ask Gemma

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