by Elena Ryder

Created on: November 12, 2008

How many times has your mother told you, "wear clean underwear, you never know when you'll get in an accident." Who knows, maybe the emergency room medical staff would gasp at the sight of dirty panties or ladybug briefs while bandaging a splintered leg. I had visions of that Saturday Night Live episode where Mary Gallagher slammed herself against the restroom stalls and landed feet up, white cotton undergarments exposed to all.

Thus began a quest to insure that any potential incident involving such embarrassment would be averted. No matter where my journey went in life, I'd be wearing not only clean, but stylish and form fitting underwear.

Being female, the choices are far more plentiful than the men's selections, although some smart designer figured out there's a market there too. I stopped wearing briefs when I was twelve years old, but bikinis were the rage for many years. They started with cottons, polka dots and hearts, followed by more innovative color combinations like pink and green that graduated into lace trim. These carried me through high school, and every morning a fresh spare would be tucked into my pocketbook, just in case.

By the time I started dating, the designs were more daring. There were "boy cut" panties, French cut, string bikinis, and ultimately thongs, all in support of reducing panty lines and promoting sex appeal. These were, after all, as important an accessory as jewelry or shoes. Some of these were quite elaborate, dangly chains and studded designs, embellishments meant to exhibit one's "inner being" or freedom from inhibition. At this point mom might have thought twice about her advice.

But she wasn't aware of the possibilities and kept to her word. Therefore, I continued with my vow to wow any potential sighting of my undergarments. Next came the G-string, and dare I say, edible underwear and crotch less panties. At this point I realized that those choices were meant for evenings indoors where no-one but my significant other would be aware of. However, it did set me on a course for future panty obsessions.

All women have a shopping weakness. Some love shoes, others love sunglasses or scarves. I go straight for the lingerie department. Two entire dresser drawers are devoted to perfectly matched panties (with the bra) and the collection is building. I've never once landed feet up or had the need for a doctor to examine me with undergarments on, but in the event that either happens, I'm prepared.

Maybe mother knew best after all. The years of preparation have given me a sense of good feeling, and the men in my life have learned to appreciate mom early on. Who knew what a clean pair of underwear, in its many variations, would do. Quite by accident, the discovery was a share of many things.

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