It’s official, the holidays are upon us. There will be shopping, there will be feasting, there will be inappropriate work-holiday-party-drunkenness, and -– if you’re single –- there will be mounting pressure to secure someone (anyone?) with whom to share that ever so important 1/1/12 midnight kiss.
You’ll read plenty about what to wear for each of the aforementioned occasions (elastic waistband for feasting, sparkly but not too short for work partying), but if you’re single, you’re far more stressed about what is NOT included in each of these guides: what to wear underneath that fabulous outfit in the event that tonight’s the night and you take someone home with you. My philosophy, for the holidays, and for life: leave the thong at home.*
I’m sure there is more than anecdotal evidence to support this theory, but I swear, the sexier your single-girl-panties, the less likely you are to walk out of the bar with a guy on your arm. Think about it: how many times have you put on your laciest underthings and gotten all dolled up “just in case,” only to go home with a slice of pizza? More often than not. How many times have you put on your shit-I-totally- should-have-done-laundry-three-days-ago briefs and a sweater and met a cool guy? More times than you probably want to admit to your mother.
Maybe men can smell that you’re trying too hard –- or maybe you really are trying too hard. Because you know what’s sexy (says the woman who sleeps, usually in whatever she was wearing the day before, with two cats in a bed with eight pillows)? Confidence. And confidence comes from being comfortable with yourself, in whatever you’re wearing. If your heels are giving you blisters and your panties are in a bunch (punny!), you are uncomfortable, and it shows. If you’re rockin out in a hoodie -– seemingly with no one to impress but yourself –- your comfort will shine through.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am not advocating for dressing like a schlub (nor would I ever encourage you to forego good hygiene)! What I am advocating for is dressing like yourself, whether that’s in leather, lace, or cotton. You’re not going to meet a guy who likes you -– and wants to make out with you on the aforementioned stroke of midnight –- by pretending to be anyone else.
*If you’re one of those people who like the feeling of a perma-wedgy, more power to you. I happen to think American Eagle undies are where it’s at.
Emily Williams is a single mom to two cats. She once bought underwear at CVS and is slowly but surely making her way through 15 lbs of snack mix ordered wholesale. Wanna make out?