I either have really, really bad luck with underwear or they just don't make reasonable underthings these days.
My frustration is mainly focused on bras but I've had some bad experience with panties as well. There is a special place in hell for whomever invented the underwire. They should be soaked in a tub of chum overnight and dangled in shark infested waters! First, they are about as comfortable as wrapping barbed wire around your delicate parts and getting run over by a steamroller. And that's if they fit right. Then, the instant that they are washed or worn more than once, the wire starts to nudge it's way through the fabric until it pops through a hole and starts to jab me in either my cleavage or my boob fat under my arm. I keep pushing the wire back in but it keeps popping out and stabbing me. And I imagine that one day I will lean over without thinking and the wire will shoot straight into my heart. They will have no choice but to list my death as "death by ill-fitting bra". And then Dateline will run a special about the dangers of underwire bras. And they will expose the real secret Victoria is keeping; that she's a masochistic bitch. What if I had fake boobs and that wire got lodged inside an implant and I sprung a leak? I'd be walking around trying to keep the salt water from spraying in my eyes as my boob slowly deflated like a water balloon.
And if you are lucky enough to escape the death by underwire, you could be humiliated to death when one of your bras squeaks non-stop. This is even worse than the squeaky shoe. We've all had one; a squeaky shoe. You wear it thinking that nobody will ever notice because it's always noisy where you go but instead you end up walking down a quiet hallway with someone behind you listening as you step, squeak, step, squeak. And you're so paranoid you start walking funny in your shoes as to avoid stepping in the place where it squeaks the most but this just makes you walk funny cause you're now walking on the outside of your shoe like some kind of a gimp and that just makes you look even more ridiculous. Bras are worse. I keep forgetting which bras squeak and I put them on oblivious to the fact that later that day I will be a walking squeak toy. Every step I take, every turn I make...more squeaking. You know how some women are known for their flawless skin or their incredible style or great perfume? I am known for my squeaky bras. "Here comes Licha, I can't see her yet but I can hear a faint squeak in the distance which means she's about to round the corner any second, pulling at her underwire and walking on the outside of one shoe."
If I'm lucky enough to get a bra that doesn't squeak or that doesn't poke me to death, I get excited. But it never lasts long because as soon as that puppy comes out of the wash cycle I notice that the metal hooks on the back are so twisted and contorted that I have to fix them with a pair of pliers and even then one clamp always digs into my back and draws blood as soon as I sit back against anything. *rolls eyes*
The panties are a whole different issue but not much better. How is it that we can make a stretchable substance (i.e. bungee cord) that can withstand the weight of an adult but they can't find anything to put in the waistband of underwear that won't unravel! I had a string the other day that dangled on the side of my leg. It was tickling me so I pulled it and it just kept ripping and pulling until I could feel it pinch my inner thigh and wrap around the front. I kept going until finally, 10 hours later, I gave up and cut it with a pair of nail clippers. But then that whole side of my panties was all flimsy and it kept flapping around and ending up in my butt crack. ARGH! Why can't I just find some damned underwear that fits right and doesn't fall apart? You would think that in these technologically advanced times we would be able to find alternative undergarment protection! I mean come on....we can build suits that allow us to travel in space or dive hundreds of feet underwater but we can't make a pair of underpants that won't ride up the ass? Am I asking too much?
Maybe it's time I started going commando! Be warned; however, if I am standing next to you and I turn too quickly, I am not responsible for slapping you across the face with my boobs.