At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Wednesday, March 08, 2017


Today marks International Women's Day. This blogger is not a woman. Never was, never will be. That's both biological and a matter of personal conviction. It seems appropriate to mention that many people who read posts here aren't either, for probably very similar reasons.

I know that because the most popular essay today AND most of this week has been Difference Between French Cut and High Cut, which I wrote over four years ago for the benefit of confused people.
It is about pretty cotton things.

The folks who read that are most likely men.

What if the uplift happened, and everybody raised to heaven (the one hundred and forty four thousand "select" of Protestant mythology) was female, leaving nothing behind but their cars and their clothes?


We'd find their panties still warm on the Freeway, scattered around in the wrecks and detritus their salvation had caused.

Not all of them would be pretty cotton things. Women's spiritual worth does not correlate to their taste in underwear. That explains some of the strange (disturbed) garments in the Sears Roebuck catalogues from the sixties and seventies.

Better pray that the End Times never happen, boys, because you never want to see those garments again. Ever.

[SOURCE: The Bra Doctor. Featured in this article: Rocket Bras and the Fifties.]

What I searched for was "Missile Bra", and this was the first thing I found.
Those old Sears Roebuck catalogues were weirder, trust me.
Still, that's a lovely skirt, don't you think?

Imagine finding that on the Freeway, amidst all the screeching car crashes and wrecked empty vehicles. It would fire your imagination.
Women don't wear skirts like that anymore.

[Must mention that a sales slogan on the Bra Doctor's Blog says "lingerie for any occasion -- Bras from A to K cups". A to K? "Okay, sometimes I wear an A, but there are days when a K is more festive, AND I've got somewhere to store my cellphone, lipstick and wallet. Plus a place for spare change!" There are probably women who have that thought all the time.]

Are there situations when just Bra and Panties are appropriate garb?

That depends upon whether it's my purely hypothetical significant other wandering through our dwelling on a bright sunny day, or my equally imaginary teenage daughter away at college possibly "doing things".

You do not need to know further details of those fantasms.
And keep your filthy mind out of the gutter.

Missile bras are now worn primarily by Madonna and men in drag. Bikini briefs with their low waistband are suited to imaginary girlfriends and manga babes, whereas French cuts have high leg openings canted forward, and are ideal for both comfort and a natural look. Full skirts, such as the zesty item in the picture above, were popular from the late forties through the fifties, and made the waist look smaller while hiding the size of the hips. They also are favoured by men in drag. The look is extremely flattering on a woman, less so on most men.

Apparently there's some sort of strike ("a day without a woman") planned for today. It will probably go entirely unnoticed by many people, because as British comedies set in war time have shown us, men are perfectly capable of passing for girls. In every platoon there's at least one fellow who wears female drag well and all the boys love him.

Usually it's the slim young thing with no facial hair yet.
Sometimes it's the regimental sergeant-major.
Rank has its privilege.

Scotsmen should never wear bras and panties. That skirt and those hairy legs are disturbing enough.


Acceptable: Briefs, Classic briefs, High-cut briefs, French cuts, Hipsters, Boylegs, Bikini. Marginally okay: Control briefs, Tangas. Unacceptable: Thongs, G-strings.
All of this goes double for the sergeant-major.

Cotton or silk only.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.



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