Sorry to mention female underwear, but it seems to have been a feature of this week.
First my sister raised the subject.
She also raised the subject of my comments on Mum’s soup. Just to clarify matters – she was a good cook, and cooked a wide variety of what were seen as adventurous food in the 1970s. Her soup also tasted good. It was just that it didn’t look good.
Anyway, back to brassieres. It seems that they can be quite important to women in Africa, because women with underwear are not only more comfortable but are seen as more likely to have male family members, which frees them from the threat of attack.
You’d think they had enough problems with war, famine and bad water.
There are several charities shipping underwear to Africa, which can include “gently worn” bras. This is one of them.
I have all this on the authority of my sister – please don’t think I sit here thinking about underwear.
It became more of a feature when Julia asked me if I could pick up some bras while I was shopping. Being a well-trained husband I said I would. After all, how difficult can it be?
When is was in my early 20s I once went into Marks & Spencers to buy an underslip as a present. I’m still scarred by the memory. I mean, first you feel like you’re being regarded as a pervert. Then you go snow blind at the amount of nylon. There is only so much underwear you can see before you start staring around in panic. I was helped out by one of the assistants. It was probably not the first time she’d had to help out.
However, I’m older and wiser now, and more a man of the world. I had the size written on a piece of paper, I have done lots of laundry, there was nothing that could go wrong.
Well, apart from some women staring at me like I shouldn’t be there. I confess I panicked.
Next week I will give Julia a lift to the shop and she will buy her own.
Yes, I know many of you will thinking of this clip.