Being Delicate to Delicates

 

 

Every girl has her vice: mine’s underwear.  My first memories of self-soothing via shopping started around 17 when my local Missouri mall got a Victoria’s Secret.  For a mall seemingly able to sustain only Sears, J.C. Penny’s and Dillards, the idea of a stand-alone Victoria’s Secret felt more like stumbling upon some Rococo ruins rather than just a chain store.  I’d never known the power of powder-pink and white on strategically folded delicates.  Store design is a powerful, powerful thing.

The question these days is how to best care for undergarments.  Typically I wash them along with everything else and pull them from the wash before I wheel my wet things to the dryers.  Then last week on a jaunt to CatBird in Williamsburg I spotted Tocca’s Stella scent in travel/delicate laundry soap.  And at last, I have a raison d’etre for washing my underwear the way my mother always told me was best.  Woolite just seems so blah by comparison.

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