Let’s Talk Underwear

Specifically, those high-waisted, full-coverage, booty-hugging essentials known as “granny panties.” As a 64-year-old curvy woman celebrating my post-menopausal reign, all I want is something that is going to cover my ass. Is that too much to ask?

The hypersexualization of women’s underwear has turned what should be a personal choice into a highly marketed, almost performative decision. Thongs, lace-cut briefs, and barely-there “panties” didn’t become mainstream by accident—they were designed and sold to women as symbols of confidence, empowerment, and appeal. But who, exactly, decided this was OK? And who are we trying to impress when we reach for a barely-there thong?

Was the Choice Ever Ours?

Underwear has always embodied a dual value: a practical purpose and symbolic power. On one hand, it serves as a functional layer, offering protection, hygiene, and modesty. Conversely, it has also become a reflection of societal norms and cultural ideals. From the Roman Empire to today, underwear has conveyed messages about status, beauty, and identity.

In ancient Rome, where male body care was a cultural obsession, undergarments were essential for presenting a fit, toned body—symbols of status only for the men. Fast-forward to the Middle Ages, and women’s underwear was often tied to menstruation, creating a gendered divide in its use. In the 1800’s, women wore bottoms, knowns as knickers or pantaloons, loose fitting with an open crotch. By the 20th century, lingerie became a fashion statement and a symbol of sexual liberation.

Since the 50s, the lingerie industry has pushed designs influenced by cutural trends and gender stereotypes. Like most women’s fashion, women’s undergarment choices were to be designed by men, marketing executives, and societal expectations. Fast-forward to the 1980s. From Charlie’s Angels to Wonder Woman, women confidently flaunted their undies, embodying strength and sensuality. Brands like Calvin Klein, with campaigns like #MyCalvins, turned to undergarments to represent confidence and power, showcasing women as bold, self-assured, and beautiful. Klein’s marketing didn’t just sell underwear—it sold a philosophy.

During that transitional time period, the lingerie industy began to push designs that prioritize sex appeal over practicality or even comfort. Let’s be clear, you have the agency to feel sexy and wear whatever the hell makes you feel good. If wearing sexy underwear validates your feelings and your self image, no one needs to see it or know about it, unless you want them to. But why now is “sexy” the default expectation when choosing something as practical as underwear? The result? An implied standard where comfort is swapped out for “allure,” leaving women to weigh their own desires against a culture that insists they look good, even under their clothes. How many times have you been panty-shamed by a partner or friend?

The Confidence Con 

The irony is that the supposed “confidence boost” marketed by lingerie companies comes with a cost. For some women, the hypersexualization of underwear doesn’t lead to a sense of empowerment; it works against our confidence. Lingerie giants like Victoria’s Secret—companies founded and historically run by men—have long controlled the narrative on what “sexy” looks like (shocker), often dictating a standard that seems more geared toward male fantasy than female comfort or empowerment. After a six-year time-out from an internal house-cleaning of misogynist male execs, the lingerie giant just launched a reboot of their fashion show, with a mission of being more inclusive and considerate. I wasn’t impressed. The A-list models strutted (and tripped), some with the gratuitous VS wings strapped to their shoulders, showcasing a predictable and uninspiring collection. Most of the reviews stated the show was a letdown. While some viewers enjoyed the nostalgia of the scant offerings, the comments ranged from “out of touch” to “most boring show ever.” After watching shows like this, instead of feeling liberated, women are left feeling as if they’re failing miserably, wondering if they’re “sexy enough” or if their choice of underwear aligns with some societal ideal. Perhaps Victoria’s secret is: real women can’t wear our clothes. 

The Triumph of Comfort

Thankfully, for us full coverage girls, the tables are turning. We can wear granny panties (sigh of relief) without a hint of shame. Granny panties have made a huge comeback. They aren’t just for the over-60 crowd, and they are no longer a concession to aging gracefully. Bustle Magazine recently dropped an article calling Granny panties fall’s new top trend. Granny panties are everywhere right now, strutting down runways (except Victoria Secret’s) and embraced by a generation that understands that comfort doesn’t have to be sacrificed. It’s as if the panties themselves are saying, “I’ve got you covered.” In a world of unpredictable chaos, wearing something dependable and comforting is satisfying. This is about practicality and self-respect.

For ages, we have accepted that comfy undies were only to be worn at home under layers of bulky sweats. Well, no more. Say goodbye to wedgies and synthetic lace. Wear your granny panties with pride on your next date, or outing if that is your thing. Choosing comfort isn’t about “giving up” or “letting go”—it’s about acknowledging our bodies and honoring our needs. Today, we’ve finally reached a point where underwear choices are inclusive and individual, reflecting our ideals, bodies, and personalities. We wear what makes us feel good—not what society tells us to. Haven’t we earned the right to wear whatever the hell we want without feeling guilty or having to explain ourselves? It feels liberating.

Does wearing sexy undies make you feel more confident, or are you giving in to societal pressure?

Do you feel that the hypersexualization of fashion has affected other areas of your life?