Like every girl, I am a coveted collector of corsetry. A proud owner of a top drawer filled with frill overspill. So it was passion-perfect that this evening I had the pleasure of exploring the lacy intimacy of what is deemed to be the Aristocracy of naughty but nice (with an emphasis on the naughty), at the launch of London
An event at Provocateur is exactly that, designed to arouse as you browse. So, as an accolade to all lovers of the under-cover, I am inspired by the underwired and ask the eternal question, Does Size Really Matter?
If good things come in small packages, then great things come wrapped in tissue and tied with a large satin ribbon. But controversially, for a gift that is designed to hit the g-spot, just how is it that the female fancy comes ready to wear, whereas the male attempt to choose his filly's frillies unreservedly requires a returns receipt?
One would assume that with such attention to detail on the female form, our men’s anatomical alphabet would fully understand A to Double D. Unfortunately for as long as he continues to measure cup size by the handful he is destined for illiteracy and, when it comes to lingerie, our boys seem to have very large hands!
Furthermore, the said ‘browsing’ habits of our gift-giving males further digress as the 'browse' moves from basque to burlesque. Subconsciously romantic turns to erotic and the result is a gift box of body dysmorphia, most commonly unwrapping the smallest of smalls and a top that even Pamela Anderson would struggle to fill. This woman is not in your bed, she is in your head!
By comparison, if (heaven forbid) we followed the same thought process the simple boxer shorts would probably need to come with a prescription of Viagra…but then again, size doesn't matter....does it?
What leaves me most perplexed by the opposite sex, however, is the speed at which male titillation can turn timid when it comes to buying lingerie. The simple buying of a bra can become the enactment of a secret mission – Objective: find-pay-leave as quickly as possible. Challenge: no human intervention, categorically no questions. Success: dignity intact, shame averted, embarrassment nil.
Somehow however 007 charm is overtaken by panic, licence to thrill turns to spill, mission impossible is now most definitely the art of the possible.
To be so keen to undress to impress, I remain uncertain - What is it that causes our men’s boudoir bravado to be shaken and not stirred when faced with the licence to buy lingerie?
‘Til next time, Pandora
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