No man should ever enter a lingerie shop for any purpose. There is nothing he can do there that will produce a good result – even if he buys the perfect set of lace nothings for his light of love. Because his light will not appreciate them.
The thing that the man wants to see is not the thing that the light wants to wear. Indeed, if the man were to canvas the light for an honest answer – and get it – he would be shopping in the flannelette aisle of Big W. It is a sad thing to have one’s dreams shattered, but even sadder to have it done with a fire axe.
” But what of Victoria’s Secret? ” I hear you ask. Victoria doesn’t have secret. She’s a tart and that’s all there is to it. The lingerie is a work-related expense, and a pretty poor value-for-money one at that. Compare the lifespan of the average lace step-in to that of a pair of Yakka overalls and see which one helps out with your bottom line. Fortunate indeed the working girl who can cater to her trade in denim and nylon straps. Though it does get a bit itchy around the edges.
Of course there is the question of size. You can get it right and you can get it wrong, but if you get it wrong by buying too large a garment, you ain’t gonna get it.
” Sex mad ” used to be a term of disapproval. It was used to cover the behaviour of anyone who was noticeably interested in the opposite sex. Bit unfair that, as it could also have been applied to people who were interested in others of their same sex. I think the main factor for the critics was that the person they were complaining about was more successful than they were. Not so much a case of morals as one of practical jealousy.
Why madness should be linked to sexuality puzzles me – I have always thought the pleasures of anxiety and mania should never be tainted with thoughts of the squidgy bits. And surely it is far easier to howl and tear the furniture to bits without having dress up in revealing garments. Catch a garter belt on the edge of a credenza and no telling what damage it might do…
The juxtaposition of the two words is also a little suspect – in my experience, when one or both of the partners gets mad it signals the end of sex for some time. One of the other things that signals the end is the kids banging on the door or the cat shooting out from under the bed. It’s even worse when the cat just sits under there and sniggers.
Perhaps it’s just a misunderstanding – or a misprint. Perhaps the phrase was originally meant to be ” Sex Maid ” which is kind of exciting. Or” Sex Mood “…definitely a hint of low lights and steamy jazz music there.
How about ” Sex Mud “? A specialised taste, admittedly, but these are modern times and who are we to judge. As long as you wipe your feet before you come back in the house it should be fine – what you actually wipe them on is another matter.
Of course the cynical amongst the regular subscribers of this column will snort and accuse me of including ” Sex ” in the title…and also in the search tags…in a blatant effort to boost readership. A delightful thought, but one that is not likely to be successful – the sort of internet browser that homes in on ” Sex” is unlikely to stay and read the regular fare of the page – the hot rods, toy cars, model airplanes, and Backstabbers Guild. A one-off spike is about all I could hope for. Still, when the Dashboard analysis page for WordPress shows that the highest level of searching in the past week has been for ” Lucy Lastic And the Land Of Panties ” I feel that at I can predict the tastes of at least some of the customers.
In honour of this I have put Lucy in the heading image. I know the best people.