What lies beneath...

The other day, I found myself in the warren of tightly packed stores adjoining a suburban railway station. In this hot-house of hedonistic shopping, one was assured of getting everything from festive wear to utensils to household linen and err....In the tiny shop window of an otherwise staid shop, on proud display was what they call a ‘bra-panty’ set in brilliant red satin and lace, with the strategic areas where the nipples and the crotch area would be, cut out in heart shapes.

I sprang quickly to block my mother’s eyes from this, but she was already snorting derisively. “They’ve cut out the main area that needs to be covered. What is the point?” I suspected of course, that she did get the point of it but she would not let on. After all, I still have to be disabused of the notion that I was the result of immaculate conception. It set me thinking, that shiny set, treading the indelicate balance between the coyness of a cover-up and the brazenness of a deliberate reveal.

This was something I’d expected to see in the confines of speciality shop in an air-conditioned mall or an online retail site. In the rough and tumble of the market, the lingerie seemed like a declaration that in the midst of the prosaic and the quotidian, the sexual woman—albeit weighed down by bags of vegetables and groceries still existed. I stepped into the store. They had wisps of lace that would need to be fevikwicked onto one’s body in order for it to stay put; some itsy bitsies with feathers so sensuously tactile I almost plighted my troth to it for my future six lives. That sensual lingerie, the indulgence of the private self, is displayed and purchased in a very public space is a telling one. The functional morphs into the erotic, and the very act of purchasing it removes the prurient from it.

Most of us, yours truly included are rather prosaic about the foundation garments. I would wear a horse harness if it were comfortable and offered adequate support. Mid-life sex is challenging as it is, without worrying about whether things match. Also, there’s that issue with one’s middle-aged body which isn’t exactly what them lingerie manufacturers had in mind while designing those wisps of lace that make one weep for the smoothness of décolletages past.

There’s a Ph.D thesis titled Consuming Underwear: Fashioning Female Identity by Christiana Tsaousi that speaks about the link between underwear and self-esteem. It states: “Underwear can be seen as a technology of the self and as embodied cultural capital. It functions both as a support for outerwear and the body, and as a tool for self-fashioning and self-improvement due to the intense sensations it can produce for the wearer.” It adds,

“The empirical data indicate that underwear is used for the construction and reconstruction of various feminine identities, including worker, mother, sports player and sexual partner.” If you like the feel of satin and lace against your skin, wear it. If you feel empowered wearing it, do so. And do so every single day. If you’ve got the opportunity, the locked door, the lubricant, the appropriate music and have managed to shut off the running commentary in your head, sensual lingerie can only help.

Never mind the appropriateness or inappropriateness of heart shaped cut aways.

Kiran Manral is the author of six published books across genres. She is also a recovering Nutella addict

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