Underwear
I have so much pent up writing from 2 months off the ‘stack—can I use a nickname for this? Is it cringe?—but I’m gonna keep it loose today because the stuff stacking up inside me needs to loosen up lest I give myself a hemmerhoid, which I never spell correctly the first time around and thank you auto-correct ai for offering to help but no thanks.
Underwear is so funny. There is no way for it not to be. I’m sorry but even when it’s sexy it’s just ridiculous. Lately I’ve been thinking about when we start wearing it as a matter of fact. This milestone has got to qualify as some kind of developmental leap, because I see kids my son’s age—including my very own son—still enjoying being ass naked around the house with not a care in the universe about exposing his genitals. Honestly it’s inspiring. I’ve mentioned elsewhere that one of my favorite pranks is to enter the living room butt naked when my family is in town. They’re so used to it they don’t react anymore, but I like to think I’m both inspiring and inspired by my own child’s enthusiasm for his groin. There is no greater form of freedom than to be naked and non-sexual.
But the thing about underwear is that his age has started to show in that whenever he does wear it, he has discernment about what to wear, and how to wear it.
Sometimes he just wants something cleaner:
There’s a little pee pee on it, Mama. I want underwear with no pee pee on it, Mama.
Sometimes he just doesn’t want the particular underwear I’ve brought him, and he has an indefatigable rationale that I am unfortunately not allowed to grasp:
Not THAT one, Mama. THAT one. Sheesh. Don’t be like that.
What’s remarkable about underwear for little kids is actually that it’s covered in art and design. When did we decide underwear has to advertise cartoons? I mean it’s fine; it really is, especially in the grand scheme of things. Spiderman underwear as capitalist qualifier isn’t exactly a California wildfire or an executive order to end free air. Let the kids be, as we say.
I just want to riff on the idea of all things being designed, however, and picture the design meeting when these under garments are being planned for production. I’ve seen a fair number of pitch meetings to clients who hold IP and can just imagine someone like me in my twenties, giving a presentation on a diffusion line of boy’s underwear. I mean Marvel IP on boy’s underwear is a little on the nose. We hardly have to imagine that pitch meeting. But what if I told you my kid actually has Elie Tahari underwear? I kid you not.
A contemporary sateen sans serif logotype embroidered into the spandex hem of a 14 inch waistline creates a perimeter for comfort and flexibility…and that’s how the Elie Tahari brand needs to capture the 4-7 year old market.
You guys. Someone had to actually say something like that to Elie Tahari’s people. Honestly, isn’t that amazing?
I’m working on being un-angry enough to say something poetic, write another love letter, tell you something clever about something inconsequential that I happen to know. Till then, I highly recommend taking off your underwear.
==
P.S. I finally read Chelsea Girls by Eileen Myles and god it’s so good. And I think this is the kind of flagrant “commando” mode that I’m thinking of when I picture Dario without pants. I’m sitting with that quite a bit.