Category Archives: girly girl

We’re talkin’ panties. No boys allowed…

unless you are a cross dresser, transvestite or drag queen.  Although, I would imagine the latter two would already know these tricks.  For some reason, drag queens know more about undergarments than the average biological woman does.

In that case, this article is for you, Frump a Dump.  We’re talking bras and panties here.  Sit back, take notes and then, go evaluate your lingerie drawer.  There will be a quiz at the end of this lecture, Bitches…so absorb!

Those of you who read regularly or know me “in real life” know I am a pretty fashionable chick.  I love fashion. I live for fashion.  I eat, breathe and sleep fashion. The only thing I don’t do is fuck fashion.  I save that kind of love for the Hotband exclusively.  Though, I do make sure to be fashionable WHILE fucking, if that accounts for any thing.  Bra and panties must not necessarily match…but they must be attractive.  Alluring.  Eye candy.

I am a big advocate that sexy starts from the inside out and that goes for clothes too.  If you start with a base of sexy lingerie, your “feel good” will shine through.  It’s always a sexy start to a great outfit.  When you throw on your basic frump a dump white sports bra and a pair of your big ol’ granny panties, you are starting with a canvas that just screams “I am going to feel shitty for the rest of the day.” If you start with a sweet lacy bra and a cute tanga panty or a flirty pair of boy short panties, you are going to have a sexy secret with you all day long.  Plus, you never know when your partner is going to grab hold of you for a “nooner” or a “quickie”.

Do you really wanna be caught out there in a pair of your oldest “Hanes Her Way”, with the tiny hole that lets two or three pubes escape?  The ones with the saggy, worn out elastic around the crotch?  Or, worse still…the ones that you wear during “that time of the month” that have the dark, shadowy remnants of all the times your pad didn’t do its job appropriately?

Don’t look at me like that. You know what I am talking about.  We all have a pair of those.

You should be ashamed of yourself.  Truly.

Once I had my hysterectomy, I threw out every single pair of underwear that qualified as “dust rags”.  Dumped them all.  Any thing that I purchased that came in a five pack?  Gone.  I figured, I am never going to destroy another pair of underwear ever again, ergo, I am going to invest in some of the prettiest panties I have ever owned.  I have tangas, boy shorts, T backs, bikini’s, high waist, french cut…some lacy, some in cotton, some patterned, some solid…but the one thing they all have in common?

They are all sexy.  All of them.  There will never be a time that I will be caught with my “pants down” (pun blatantly obvious) in the underwear department.  Same thing with the bras.  Girls, dump the bras that have twisted wires, an underwire poking through, the one that you pinned together because it’s your favorite.  Get rid of them.  All you need are two basic white bras, four basic nude bras and about four basic black bras.  Those are your staples.  After that, the rest of your bras should look like a circus threw up in your lingerie drawer.  Colors!  Lots and lots of colors!  Sure, with sheer blouses, these don’t work…but how often do you wear sheer blouses?  That’s where your basic colors come in.

And while we are on the subject of basics…here’s a tip for you, Sugar Tits.  White bras should only be worn under white blouses.  That’s it.  End of story.  Any other sheer blouses you own should have a NUDE bra underneath it.  You can even do a nude bra under a white blouse.  Same thing goes for your panties, doll faces.  Do not wear white panties under white pants.  It shows right through and draws a whole lot of attention to spots you don’t want attention drawn to.  Keep it nude.  Nude bras work under everything.  Don’t try to match your bras to your blouses.  For example…if you are wearing a sheer yellow blouse, don’t think you should wear a yellow bra beneath it.  It looks “udderly” ridiculous.  NUDE bras, girls.  Also, please…be mindful of your nipples.  If you have prominent nipples, do not wear a see through bra under your sheer blouses.  In the dim lighting of your bedroom as you dress in the morning, you won’t necessarily be seeing what all your co-workers will be seeing under the fluorescent lighting of your office.

The nude rule under sheer does not apply to black sheer blouses.  One would think this is common sense, but alas, it is not.  Black sheer needs a black bra.  Let me explain why.  We are living in a digital age, girls.  People are snapping photos all the time.  There is a horrible phenomenon called “headlights” and it is no longer the catchphrase for a pair of hardened nipples.  When a camera flash flashes…suddenly, whatever you are wearing beneath the sheer is going to become blatantly apparent.  Worse than your titties showing through your blouse is your bra being too light for the blouse you are wearing.  It makes these two “round disks” of light where your breasts should be.  This will end up on your friends and co-workers Facebook pages with all sorts of ridicule ranging from “nice high beams” to “look into the liiiiiight, Carolann…walk into the light!”

It is important to pay attention to your skin tone when dressing.  And while I am not normally one to endorse products I have not personally used, THIS website, called “My Skins”, offers you the opportunity to either download (not recommended) their color chart or order one by snail mail.  The reason I don’t suggest downloading the skin color chart is because if your computer does not have the right ink or the correct color settings, you are going to get skewed colors.  This chart will help you find the right color undergarment that best matches your skin tone.  If you choose to buy from this site, I will say, they ARE reasonably priced undergarments.  Their panties run to about a 44 inch hip (the XL is too small for me, but might fit some of you chicks with less endowed asses than mine).  Their bras run to a 38D…again, too small for me, but perfect for all of you who can shop Victoria’s Secret.  (You know what her secret is?  She has nothing in my size, that’s her secret.  Bitch.)  But, even if you don’t shop there…you can still use the color chart (free) to be able to match it to undergarments where you do shop.  I personally wear “Cappucino”…which is perfect for my olive skin tone.  Your skin color may vary. 

However, I have truly digressed.

The staples are the staples.  Every girl should have a base undergarment wardrobe that consists of neutrals that always work under the spring and summer lighter colors.  Where the colors come in are under things like tank tops, summer dresses with spaghetti or narrow straps or loose, flowing tunic tops.  There is nothing tackier than your bra straps hanging out from under any of the aforementioned things.  However, the way to go from tasteless to tactful is by using color.  If you are wearing a tank top with narrow straps and you are not a member of the itty bitty titty committee and can’t get away with a tiny bra, no bra or a strapless bra…you want to put on a bra with color in it!  Fun colors!  Wearing an orange tank?  Throw on a yellow bra so that if the shoulder slides away, you are looking at a pretty pop of color, not a dingy white bra strap.  If you make it look like you MEANT to make that sexy little fashion faux pas, it will be interpreted that way.

And, as everyone knows, perception IS reality.

PS:  The “pop of color” undergarment rule applies to casual wear. If you are wearing a chic little black dress or a formal white dress, keep your black undergarments with the LBD and a nude/white undergarment with the white dressy wear.  Do I need to explain this?  From the looks of what I see out there in the world, apparently, I do.

Wearing a black tank top?  Sure, you can grab your basic black bra.  But, if it slides to one side, everyone now sees that your tank doesn’t fit and you are not fooling any one with the black bra on.  Instead, have a hot pink bra on!  Pop of color!  Fun! Flirty!  A hint of color is sexy.  Trying to conceal a tank that is too big on you or doesn’t fit you correctly with a bra of the same color looks exactly that way.  If you have a tank that isn’t fitting you correctly, the correct remedy is…BUY THE RIGHT SIZE, Dumbass.  But, if you insist on wearing an ill fitting ANY thing…let me let you in on a little secret.

Camisoles.  And no, we ain’t talkin’ about your granmama’s camisole.  Not some lacy, slinky thing from the 40’s.  We’re talking a basic, cotton, thin strapped camisole.  Yes, it means layering your bra, your cami and then your tank…but at least you look appropriately dressed and not like you are trying to fit into something that you bought when you were 20 pounds lighter. Use them.  Have them in every color of the rainbow.  They cost barely more than $10 at Old Navy in all size from size 0 all the way up to a size 28. No excuses, girls.  Get them.  Use them.  Please.

The point is, if you start with a sexy base, you will feel good in what you wear all day long.  There is a lot of truth to the adage that beauty comes from the inside.  That applies to your clothing as well.  If you have a sweet little secret under your clothes, you will have a sly smile on your face all day long.  You will have this gorgeous air of confidence and radiance that will make you look tremendously better the whole day through.  When you feel better about what you are wearing, you will walk with an air of confidence that is immediately apparent to others.

You’ll know you’re doing it right if men ask you for your phone number and bitches talk about you behind your back.  And for those of you who are already happily paired off…if your significant other decides to treat you to a little “afternoon delight”, you will already have the right gear for hittin’ the rear, ya know what I’m sayin’? Hm?

Remember, the right ‘tude will put you in the right mood.

And, remember what you’re mama always told you…you want to have on clean underwear if you are ever in an accident…or want to snag yourself a hot paramedic.  Either one works for me.

Stay sexy, bitches.

CP.

Focus 52: Shadows

I love make up.

I am a girly girl who lives and dies for the sparkle, the shimmer, the gloss, the gleam, the bling, the shiny and all things that are wonderfully and magically feminine.

Lately, I haven’t been feeling so girly.

Since my hysterectomy, it has been hard for me to jump back on the “Sparkle Wagon” as I call it and make myself fabulous.  It’s been a real struggle. A chore for me.  Even showering is a process.  Bending over to shave my legs is a true production as I can feel the incisions in my abdomen tugging hard to the point where they feel like they are going to snap.  Showering usually exhausts me to the point where I don’t feel like going out any longer.

The other day, in the mail, one of my dear friends, a fellow blogger who shares my love of all things make up, sent me a pallet of eye shadows, cheek tints and a nude lip gloss.  Just something to brighten my day and make me feel “gorg” (as she put it) after all the shit I have been through as of late.  Well, I played with those eye shadows in a gazillion different color combinations on my arm til it looked like one big long bruise.

You know, when a bruise is healing?  All those crazy colors; purples, yellows, greens, blues, blacks.

And when I realized that, I scrubbed my arm clean.  It brought me back to a time in my life where I had to rely on cover up, thick, copious amounts of cover up, to cover up bruises that were given to me by someone who claimed they loved me.  As I was washing off my arm, still staring at these glorious eye shadows, I wondered why…why would I be thinking about something so terrible out of nowhere when just five minutes earlier, I was in girly girl heaven?

Then, I realized.  20 years.  This November will be 20 years since someone tried to end my existence on this planet.  20 years since someone beat me into a coma with a baseball bat in front of my 4 year old daughter.  20 years since doctors told my parents that I may not come back from this and if I do, I will probably have severe brain damage for the rest of my life.  The “anniversary”, if you will, of one of the worst moments of my entire life.  I suppose it had been brewing just under the surface in me for awhile.  The night before receiving this wonderful present from my friend, I had had a very restless sleep.  At one point, my husband had to wake me, because not only had my sleep been fitful, but apparently at one point, I ended up flailing about, punching him violently and screaming for whomever I was dreaming about to “leave me alone, leave me alone…stop!”  My husband shook me awake.  “It’s me, baby…it’s me,” he said as he slowly brought me out of my tortured slumber and back into reality.  I stared at him for a minute, still confused and somewhat dazed.

“It’s me,” he said again, softly.

“Okay,” I nodded, understanding that he was reassuring me that I was safe.  “Okay.”

I curled back up on his chest and went back to sleep.

It’s peculiar to me that even 20 years later, the silliest of things can trigger me.  A certain scent.  The sound of a man’s voice when it is particularly gruff and laden heavily with a thick, italian accent.  There are specific sounds that make me jittery, like the sounds of footsteps on a wooden floor, especially if that wood floor creaks.  There are certain actors I can’t watch on TV or in the movies who remind me of my abuser and even if the movie is supposedly “sooooooooooo good,” I will still avoid it like the plague.

The day after I got my friends gift, I went back into my bathroom, and played in front of my mirror again, combining golds with peacock blues and and lush, rich purple shadows.  And it became fun again.  The joy was restored because those other shadows, the kind that hover over you and wake you from restful slumber…the kind that haunt your thoughts and dreams, the kinds that are long, tall and ominous?  They eventually go away.  And they are replaced by 16 pots of beautiful eye shadows sent with love from a gret friend.  A silly soap opera palette called “The Balm and the Beautiful”…with names like “The Other Woman”, “The Drama Queen” and my personal favorite, “The Perfect Man.”

However, I think I will steer clear of the one called “The Coma Patient” for a little while.

Hits a little too close to home.  😉