I was in the middle of a final-round job interview in Chicago back in 2017 when my underwear snapped. Not just a little loose—the side seam on a cheap lace thong I’d bought in a 5-for-$25 bin literally gave up the ghost while I was explaining my five-year plan. I spent the next forty minutes trying to keep my legs crossed in a way that didn’t let a stray piece of elastic dangle out of my hem. I didn’t get the job. I blame the underwear.
Since then, I’ve become a bit of a freak about what I put on first thing in the morning. If the foundation is garbage, the rest of the day follows suit. I’m not a fashion editor and I don’t care about “trends” in lingerie. I care about what stays put when I’m running for the bus and what doesn’t make me want to claw my skin off by 3:00 PM.
The Skims hype is actually kind of exhausting
I know I’m going to get heat for this. Everyone loves Kim K’s line. But honestly? I think Skims is mostly just glorified Spanx that makes you sweat in places you didn’t know could sweat. I bought three pairs of the Fits Everybody thong last year because the internet told me to. What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently. It’s not that the fabric is bad, it’s that it feels like wearing a very thin, very expensive wetsuit.
It’s synthetic. It doesn’t breathe. I wore a pair for a 9-hour shift at the office and by the time I got home, I felt like I’d been vacuum-sealed. I refuse to recommend them even though they look great in photos. If you value your pH balance, maybe skip the plastic-feeling stuff. Total hype.
The $24 thong that is somehow worth it
I used to think spending more than ten bucks on a single pair of underwear was a sign of a failing society. I was completely wrong. Hanky Panky is the one brand I will defend until I die. Their “One Size” original rise thongs are like a hug from a very expensive cloud.
I have a pair from 2018. I’ve washed it probably two hundred times. It hasn’t frayed, the lace isn’t scratchy, and the elastic hasn’t quit on me like that 2017 disaster. I might be wrong about this, but I think the reason people hate thongs is just because they haven’t tried these. Most brands use this cheap, narrow elastic that digs into your hips like cheese wire. Hanky Panky uses that wide, soft lace that just sits there. It doesn’t move.
If you’re still buying those multipacks from the grocery store or Victoria’s Secret, please stop. You’re worth more than a multipack.
Anyway, I once tried to find a knock-off version on Amazon to save money. I bought a 10-pack of “lace comfort” undies for $15. They lasted exactly one wash before the lace turned into a bird’s nest of loose threads. But I digress. The point is, pay the twenty-four dollars. It’s cheaper in the long run.
Aerie is the only thing keeping me sane
Aerie is the middle ground. It’s for when you need to restock your drawer without taking out a second mortgage. I specifically only buy the “Real Me” collection.
I actually tracked this. I tested 12 different pairs of “seamless” underwear over a six-month period to see which ones actually stayed invisible under leggings. The Aerie Real Me high-waisted ones won by a landslide. They weigh approximately 22 grams—I actually put them on my kitchen scale because I’m a nerd—and you genuinely forget you’re wearing them.
They’re fine. They aren’t life-changing, but they don’t fail.
The subscription trap
I need to talk about MeUndies. I signed up for the subscription because I liked the prints. Who doesn’t want little dinosaurs on their butt? But after three months, I realized the cotton-modal blend they use starts pilling almost immediately. After four washes, they look like they’ve been through a war.
I also have a genuinely uncomfortable take on this: I think adults who wear loud, busy prints on their underwear are trying too hard to be “quirky.” There, I said it. It feels like wearing pajamas to a business meeting. I cancelled my subscription after the fifth pair of neon pineapples arrived. I’d rather have plain beige that actually functions than a “fun” print that gives me a wedgie every time I stand up.
Why I might be wrong about cotton
Every doctor tells you to wear 100% cotton. I know this. You know this. But 100% cotton underwear is almost always ugly and it stretches out by noon. By the end of the day, you’re wearing a diaper made of saggy jersey fabric. I’ve tried the high-end organic cotton brands like Pact and Negative Underwear.
Negative is okay, I guess. Their Sieve bras are cool, but the underwear? It’s just… fine. It’s $30 for something that feels like a T-shirt. I don’t get the obsession. Maybe my skin just isn’t as sensitive as everyone else’s, but I’ll take a high-quality synthetic blend over saggy cotton any day of the week.
I spent exactly $412.50 on various brands last year just to prove a point to myself. My conclusion is that most of it is garbage. We are being sold the idea of “seamlessness” when most brands just cut the fabric with a laser and hope for the best, leaving us with edges that roll up the second you move your thigh.
Is it too much to ask for something that doesn’t migrate? I don’t know if we’ve actually reached peak underwear technology or if we’re all just collective victims of the same three marketing agencies.
Just buy the Hanky Pankys. Seriously.
