When I was doing laundry the other day I got to thinking about my Gramma. About her underwear to be specific. Maybe it’s weird but one of my favorite memories of her is her underwear.
Gramma was short–not quite five feet tall. And she was—not exactly what you would call fat—but she was—well—round. Her shape was more of a small barrel than an hourglass.
What was interesting about her underwear was her choice of underwear. She wore a corset.
I mean every single day she wore a corset.
Sort of like this one
And yes, she wore stockings. Elastic support hose. Except in summer. Then she wore cotton hose.
The fun part was when she took her corset off to put her nightie on. She would hang the corset on the closet door. It looked like her body was still in it. It was shaped just like her! I am not sure if her corset was shaped by her body or her body by the corset. Anyway, it would hang on the closet door until morning when she would put it on again under her house dress.
Oh, and under the corset she wore something like this
I wonder what she would think of underwear today?
Today, I think…though I am not really a Victoria’s Angel kinda gal I am definitely glad Gramma’s underwear is not in my drawer…or hanging on the closet door…