The fight against VPL

So it was the 90s, and your luminous coloured bra poked through the white synthetic pre ripped t shirt and your diamante thong so far up your ass crack you had to waddle and re-adjust constantly. These where the glory days of VPL. It wasn’t a bulging little line that could be seen under you dress. IT was visible panties, and it was socially acceptable. This was feminism in its truest form, wearing the symbol of oppression visibly without shame and with pride. Or was it?

Of course it wasn’t

Its 2009 and I find myself going commando in abject fear of VPL. With Jodhpurs and skin tight fabric leggings (thanks American Apparel for making something that even Olivia Newton John couldn’t wear and look good) being on trend at the moment, why do I have to sacrifice my lady garden’s dignity go bravely wear only girls like Lindsay Lohan dare to tread? Because it’s a given that that tiny little line of your M&S granny knickers poking through is like an exclamation mark on your rear end.

With my Jodhpurs safely done up, it feels strange to be without coverage. The word drafty comes to mind. It’s a strange parallel to think of the lectures my mother gave me when I was 12 regarding my underwear. She reminded me that nice girls didn’t show their Bra or knickers, and that people would consider me a person of the night.

I then informed her that she was old, uncool and certainly not any authority on fashion, and skipped of to listen to Nelly and read Bliss. I remember being so certain that she was so very wrong, what would she know?

However here I am typing this to you minus pants.

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