Ladies, we have more buns than panties.
It’s not what you think.
I’m not talking about thongs or other panties which barely cover your bum. *wink* No, I’m talking about the bra and panty problem which is rather like the problem with hot dogs which come ten to a package while buns come in either packs of eight or twelve.
If we wear our bra approximately three times before washing it, but only, as I spotted recently, purchase one pair of truly matching panties, what do we do on the other two days?
We have to do some math in order to cover our buns.
Especially if we want to match our bra and panties.
All of this dawned on me the other day when I had to take the teenaged daughter bra shopping recently. Standing outside the fitting rooms (where I, like most mothers, are banished), I tried desperately not to make eye contact with any of the eye candy. (I can’t afford to.) Under the circumstances, I couldn’t help but people watch. Or, more honestly, watch women shopping in the lingerie department.
Yes, I felt more than a little like a peeper.
But over and over again, I surreptitiously observed women selecting bras. How many panties, if any, did they select to go with their new bras?
Only one woman out of the 26 I saw selecting bras also purchased panties — only one woman! And she only purchased one matching pair. She literally bought a matching bra and panty set. Which is fine, but those panties will be washed far more often, resulting in a less than perfect bra and panty set. The math doesn’t hold up so fine over time.
Sure, my field experience was limited; the numbers purely anecdotal. But I don’t think what I observed was abnormal. I mean no one was thwarting the shopping of these women. Despite my discomfort at the idea of being noticed as I observed, no one seemed to notice me; so that didn’t interrupt them. Plus, this shopping pattern seems to reflect not only my own buying habits, but those of the women I know. (Yup, I called up my sister, my mother, my friends and, after once again having to deal with their mockery of my lingerie obsession, they confided the same sort of ratios — along with their thoughts on how weird I am to even think of such things.)
The bottom line, if you’ll excuse the pun, is that our buns (the buns) out-number the panties (hot dogs); of, if you prefer, the bras are the buns and our panties are still the hot dogs. Either way, we’ve got left-over buns.
This time, it’s not an industry packaging problem. Bras are on little hangers; so are panties. (Yes, I’m completely eschewing rolled-up panties in a pack; that’s underwear, not lingerie, thankyouverymuch.)
While this means the problem of mis-matched (or even non-coordinated) bras and panties, the poor ratios of our purchases, are of our own creation, there is an opportunity here for lingerie companies. It wouldn’t hurt for them to package panties in sets of three (a simple cardboard sleeve over hangers, secured with those plastic gun thingies, should do the trick) to remind us of the simple math here.
So on those fancy four-way racks with the prettiest of bras, at least, there would be three pairs of the same panties, in the same size, just waiting for her to pick them up too. They could even offer a discount on those three-packs, just to remind the rest of us just how practical that purchase really is.
You’re welcome, lingerie industry.
Meanwhile, lingerie lovers, you are responsible for covering your own buns.
Image credits: Lynnstudios.