Panties. Thongs. G-strings. Bras. Bralettes. Bustiers. These are dirty words. Ones that you whisper to your mom when you’re twelve years old because it’s too embarrassing for someone else to hear, or ones that invoke feelings of shame and promiscuity when discussed overtly. But why? Some may argue it's because these are “private” topics needs inappropriate for the public, but leaving it at that would be ignoring my feminist impulses and contributing to the true problem.
I am guessing if I was invited to your home and could peek inside your lingerie drawer we would both be able to see the money hidden there. Cold hard cash in reds, purples, delicate pinks, and lacy bras with straps tangled together. Strapless numbers, softly polished pieces well worn and loved. Pushy-push up bras and workhorse bras meshed together. Your basics up towards the front, “you know the ones”. Black, White and Nude bras in micro-fiber fabric. Your "everyday bras".