When my daughter was a little girl, she would often come to me at the end of the summer with the complaint that she was bored.  “Go clean out your underwear drawer.” Was usually the first thing that popped into my head.

There is something about a neat underwear drawer that inspires the day.  Opening it and grabbing something out of it is one of the first things you do.  If you are greeted with a pile of neatly folded panties and bras, all wearable, in good condition and the right size, the first task of the day is simple.

My mother had the neatest underwear drawer.  Everything was white in the early days.  Later, she had some flowery things, and even some solid colors.  But in the days of my youth, her underwear drawer also contained something I miss today; white gloves.  I am old enough to have worn white gloves on dates.  I remember scrounging through my mother’s drawer, looking for a pair that matched.  I liked short gloves that had pearl buttons at the inner wrist and some embroidery on the top.  I wish gloves would come back.

This summer, I had to pare down my clothing situation.  The main reason is because I have, or had, an underwear fetish.  My friends throughout the years can attest to the fact that I often would come to work and throw a TJ Maxx, or Marshalls, or Vanity Fair bag in their direction.  Usually they just contained bras.  Weird, but I had to stop buying for myself because I already had three dressers, not just drawers, full of bras.  So I got everyone’s bra size and kept it in my wallet and when I came across a good sale, I would stock up.  To this day, the only friend I am sure of who wore what I bought her is my friend Jan.

I didn’t always buy underwear.  For years, buying clothing for myself was the last thing I would think of.  I sewed many of the things I wore until the kids were older and demanded more of my time.  Underwear was the last thing I’d spend money on.  A few pair of pants with thready elastic and a ratty bra was about all I had.

When I turned thirty, a light bulb went off.  So much bang for your buck in new bra!  You get to throw out the old.  Your boobs look better in your clothes.  They don’t cost much if you buy them on sale, so that need is also satisfied.

The problem started slowly.  It wasn’t as obvious because I had my daughter to buy for, too.  I remember her first bra; we went to Jenkintown to the Lord and Taylor.  I was so excited!

But when I discovered TJ Maxx, I was in trouble.  I bought ten bras at a time, sometimes double that.  Then a Marshall’s was built on my way home from the hospital.  That meant that whenever the mood struck, once, or twice or three times a week, I could stop and see what they had added to the sale rack.  I found that new sale stuff was put on the rack on Tuesdays.  So every Tuesday, I would be late coming home.  And always with a Marshall’s bag in tow.

First, I tried to have one of every style I liked in every color I could find.  I went through a white stage.  Then I wanted all lace.  I organized them by when they were worn.  I would only wear them once and then put them in the wash.  Then I would place them in the bottom drawer of the chest in the bathroom.  I had bras in there, in the bedroom and in the closet.  About 12 drawers in all.  I spent several hours a week arranging my bras.  Folding them, culling the flock, so to speak, and changing the way they were stored.  Sometimes I would organize them by color.  That was fun!

I hounded my daughter about wearing a good bra.  She is stacked.  So the better the bra, the better she looks.  Her friends remember a dialogue between us that I wish had been recorded for its comedic value.  She whining about her breasts and wanting a reduction, me yelling back at her that how many times have I told you to only wear a good bra and throw those flimsy ones away!

Then about ten years ago, I discovered Ebay.  Yes, I bought underwear on Ebay.  I slipped in front of Myra and Cate one day when we were talking about such womanly things, and I thought they would expire, they were laughing so hard.  I didn’t think it was that funny, actually.  I bought from the same gal, a woman who has a Vanity Fair outlet store in Mobile, Alabama.  hopeoooo is her Ebay name.  I love Pat.  She has Minimizer bras occasionally for under $10.  Her things are new, with tags.

Unfortunately, I started buying panties obsessively when I discovered Pat on Ebay.  Jim would say, ‘Oh I see on Paypal that James is getting some new panties.’ And then, my girlfriend, Rina, turned me on to La Perla, Wacoal, and other high end bras.  The hunt was on.  My friends know I don’t buy anything retail if I can help it.  So finding a sale on a La Perla bra became an obsession in itself.

Gradually, this became  an issue  however.  I was running out of room.  Choosing which one I would wear was taking too much time.  I couldn’t just reach in and grab something..  So I started matching my underwear with my outfit, even gardening clothes.

When we started cleaning the house and tossing things to prepare for its sale, my underwear fetish became a problem. I had to get rid of some of them.  I went through them piece by piece, getting rid of anything that looked at all worn or wasn’t comfortable.  The first day, I gave thirty bras to the Goodwill.  Panties were easy.  I must have trashed 50 pair.

I avoid going on Ebay now.  I can’t look without buying, so its best to stay away.  The last time I went into TJ Maxx, most of the bras were padded, so I was able to resist.  A woman my size doesn’t need anything extra in any department, even the boobage.  Its sort of depressing.  What’s left to buy?

I have had all of the buying problems; books, especially used ones, now that can be a big problem and expensive, too.  Especially since I really can’t get rid of them.  Linens.  Especially pillow cases.  We would go on trips and I would find a linen outlet and buy a dozen cases and then have to ship them home because they wouldn’t fit in my suitcase.  That’s weird.

But underwear, that is the safest one to have.  I can’t wait to git where we’re gonna be so I can buy more.