I wear cotton knit jockey briefs. And I wear only one brand. I pay $24.00 per pair in extortion money for that privilege. I have tried others. Many, many others; but for all the cost, cotton knit jockey briefs without banded legs are the only underwear I wear in total comfort. There is only one brand that I have found that produces the right combination of fit, comfort and support for my apparently rare and unique requirements.
I grew up with generic cotton briefs. 12 for $3.00 I believe were the common White Front brand Mom always bought us. Men’s for Dad, boy’s for me. I gave little thought in my youth to the properties of underwear until junior high school gym class and the introduction of gym shorts and jocks. Jock straps were uncomfortable, but reassuringly protective when combined with a shock doc protective cup. Gym shorts on the other hand were loose and allowed free motion and it was only in comparison that I soon discovered just how uncomfortable cotton briefs had been all my life.
I began to study and explore the complexities of the world of undergarments. Breaking free of paternal white cotton oppression I rebelled the tyrannical reign of cotton briefs and searched for an alternative life choice much to the dismay concern and complete lack of enlightenment on my parent’s part. In a final act of desperate compromise, my Mom offered to buy me colored cotton briefs, but I declined and sought to go out on my own and purchase my first article of clothing without supervision.
Boxer’s seemed the logical choice to me at the time, being new to the garment industry in general and naïve in the nuances of underwear hierarchy I was in awe to walk down the aisles of various brands of cotton briefs until I located the small display of colorful plaid printed boxers in packages of three. After carefully examining the color varieties and combos I settled on a package and brought the conspicuous unmentionables to the check out counter grabbing a pack of handkerchiefs to hide the obvious boxers I held in my hand.
I later learned that this embarrassment that I felt over displaying my underwear in public lent to similar situations like buying condoms, KY jelly and women’s hygienic products as well. But I have successfully braved all these events at various times in my life with the tried and true method of incorporating tunnel vision that I perfected on that day. Focus on the prize, blank out the mind, breath deep and steady and keep putting one foot in front of the other. It is the technique I recommend to all young men faced with similar situations. I found the same procedure might be applied to marriage, but not nearly as well or with the desired effect.
Boxers did not meet all my expectations. I felt like a freak although no one could tell what I wore beneath my Wrangler’s, or could they? I walked around wondering what they were really seeing when girls would look at me and giggle, and classmates stared and then quickly glanced away to avoid eye contact. Did they know? Could they know? Well I didn’t care. I did but not really. Doesn’t that sound like typical teenage angst? The truth is the boxers I wore were tight around the leg, the elastic in the waist was scratchy, they ballooned in the middle, and I discovered over the years from the different versions I have tried, buttons catch and pop off, snaps unsnap leaving a gaping hole for tangly dangly mischief to occur, and the excess material seems to wrinkle and crease causing them to bind at inopportune times. Boxers are not for me.
During a mad disco phase of my life I briefly considered stretchy nylon/spandex bikini briefs like superman wears. I soon discovered why Superman is always portrayed standing. Sitting in bikini briefs for any period off time cuts the circulation off to the legs. Good thing Superman can fly, he could never walk anywhere. Bikini Briefs are not for me. But I must say I did look good in them.
Jockey shorts are too clingy, silk briefs too needy, flannel too warm, thongs, well thongs are simply masochistic torture gear that if not properly monitored require a team of proctologists to remove, and last I checked, insurance won’t cover the procedure.
I finally found the undergarment for me. Cotton knit brief jockeys. They represent the best of all worlds. Soft gentle loose fitting for maneuverability, cross over flap with no buttons or snaps, elastic waist band that supports yet doesn’t confine, and leg seams without elastic that allow for range of motion that I find reassuring.
So although I may complain of the cost and often threaten to switch brands, I am a one undergarment man and pray every night before I go to bed that my guardian angel watches over corporate stability and protects the integrity of the fashion line that features my unmentionables for now and ever more.
I grew up with generic cotton briefs. 12 for $3.00 I believe were the common White Front brand Mom always bought us. Men’s for Dad, boy’s for me. I gave little thought in my youth to the properties of underwear until junior high school gym class and the introduction of gym shorts and jocks. Jock straps were uncomfortable, but reassuringly protective when combined with a shock doc protective cup. Gym shorts on the other hand were loose and allowed free motion and it was only in comparison that I soon discovered just how uncomfortable cotton briefs had been all my life.
I began to study and explore the complexities of the world of undergarments. Breaking free of paternal white cotton oppression I rebelled the tyrannical reign of cotton briefs and searched for an alternative life choice much to the dismay concern and complete lack of enlightenment on my parent’s part. In a final act of desperate compromise, my Mom offered to buy me colored cotton briefs, but I declined and sought to go out on my own and purchase my first article of clothing without supervision.
Boxer’s seemed the logical choice to me at the time, being new to the garment industry in general and naïve in the nuances of underwear hierarchy I was in awe to walk down the aisles of various brands of cotton briefs until I located the small display of colorful plaid printed boxers in packages of three. After carefully examining the color varieties and combos I settled on a package and brought the conspicuous unmentionables to the check out counter grabbing a pack of handkerchiefs to hide the obvious boxers I held in my hand.
I later learned that this embarrassment that I felt over displaying my underwear in public lent to similar situations like buying condoms, KY jelly and women’s hygienic products as well. But I have successfully braved all these events at various times in my life with the tried and true method of incorporating tunnel vision that I perfected on that day. Focus on the prize, blank out the mind, breath deep and steady and keep putting one foot in front of the other. It is the technique I recommend to all young men faced with similar situations. I found the same procedure might be applied to marriage, but not nearly as well or with the desired effect.
Boxers did not meet all my expectations. I felt like a freak although no one could tell what I wore beneath my Wrangler’s, or could they? I walked around wondering what they were really seeing when girls would look at me and giggle, and classmates stared and then quickly glanced away to avoid eye contact. Did they know? Could they know? Well I didn’t care. I did but not really. Doesn’t that sound like typical teenage angst? The truth is the boxers I wore were tight around the leg, the elastic in the waist was scratchy, they ballooned in the middle, and I discovered over the years from the different versions I have tried, buttons catch and pop off, snaps unsnap leaving a gaping hole for tangly dangly mischief to occur, and the excess material seems to wrinkle and crease causing them to bind at inopportune times. Boxers are not for me.
During a mad disco phase of my life I briefly considered stretchy nylon/spandex bikini briefs like superman wears. I soon discovered why Superman is always portrayed standing. Sitting in bikini briefs for any period off time cuts the circulation off to the legs. Good thing Superman can fly, he could never walk anywhere. Bikini Briefs are not for me. But I must say I did look good in them.
Jockey shorts are too clingy, silk briefs too needy, flannel too warm, thongs, well thongs are simply masochistic torture gear that if not properly monitored require a team of proctologists to remove, and last I checked, insurance won’t cover the procedure.
I finally found the undergarment for me. Cotton knit brief jockeys. They represent the best of all worlds. Soft gentle loose fitting for maneuverability, cross over flap with no buttons or snaps, elastic waist band that supports yet doesn’t confine, and leg seams without elastic that allow for range of motion that I find reassuring.
So although I may complain of the cost and often threaten to switch brands, I am a one undergarment man and pray every night before I go to bed that my guardian angel watches over corporate stability and protects the integrity of the fashion line that features my unmentionables for now and ever more.
2 comments:
Just imagine what it is like trying to buy a good-fitting bra that does everything it is supposed to do, and still feels comfortable...it is much more difficult than most people think, so I feel your pain! LOL
Hon, I don't think any man looks good in bikini briefs... no matter what you say. lol
I agree with Jan. Just try a bra for awhile if you think undies can be uncomfortable!
Cute story, tho... I never thought so much about mens undergarments in my whole life. ;)
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