......When I was an Our Bodies, Ourselves-type feminist back in the 1970s I railed against the sexist implications of confining clothing. Patriarchal hegemony, and all that.
But, honestly, what did I know about real life back then?
In those days, the pencil dropped.
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Z'all the scrap • ø Ø Þ One Day we will find out what to write here
UPDATE-2:nothing PC
UPDATE-3:for the lazy man
UPDATE-4:Mars Venus
º Cilacap, Indonesia º
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http://www.philly.com/mld/inquirer/news/magazine/daily/13676245.htm?template=contentModules/printstory.jsp
Posted on Sat, Jan. 21, 2006
Unconventional Wisdom | Please, gals, put on some proper undies
By Tanya Barrientos
Inquirer Columnist
I take back everything I've ever said about wanting to see more "real" people in television and the movies.
All those pleas I made for a flash of fleshy thigh or a hunk of real tummy on the screen?
Withdrawn.
You'll understand why if you took a gander at Drew Barrymore's unfettered front, and Queen Latifah's ungraded gut during the Golden Globes broadcast this week.
A little too much reality in that bit of television, thank you very much.
What, I wonder, do those gals, or their stylists, have against undergarments?
Maybe Barrymore's too young to know about the pencil test. You know, that old practice of placing a trusty No. 2 at the base of the breast. If it stays when you let go, darling, your days as a free-lancer are over.
I bring this up because, this being the award-show season - the Grammys air in February and the Oscars in March - we're bound to be seeing plenty of flamboyant fashions, starring scads of skin.
Which is fine. And fun. And frankly, the main reason I tune in.
But may I suggest that it's also time for the young Hollywood elite to put their trust in the fundamentals of foundation?
As in underwear.
Unlike the pint-size and pantyless Teri Hatcher, I am a big fan of undergarments. And I'm sort of surprised that women like Barrymore and Latifah, whose chassis come fully loaded, dare to hit the road without a single safety belt.
Don't they watch Oprah?
She did an entire show on bras last season and has threatened to teach every woman on the planet a thing or two about panties this year.
I say, bring 'em on! It's not just a question of decency, it's also a question of simply looking good.
I'm ready to be rolled and trussed like a pork roast. Mainly because I looked in the mirror the other day and discovered that I've grown an entirely new piece of anatomy.
It's like an old lady's arm, wedged between my rib cage and hips.
In my mother's day it was called the "midriff bulge," and it was taken care of with a long-line bra, a pinchy girdle, and well-timed gasps for air.
But these days, breathing takes precedence. Which makes me wonder where our priorities have gone.
This is a troubling time in underwear history, when thongs pass as adequate basement coverage, and camisoles count as flying buttresses.
So cheering for the return of the full-on corset is something even Oprah may not be able to pull off.
I mean, advancing literacy is one thing; lionizing waist-high briefs with enough Lycra power to crush a Mini Cooper is quite another.
I know in my protruding gut that I am, essentially, cheering for the enemy.
When I was an Our Bodies, Ourselves-type feminist back in the 1970s I railed against the sexist implications of confining clothing. Patriarchal hegemony, and all that.
But, honestly, what did I know about real life back then?
In those days, the pencil dropped.
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Contact columnist Tanya Barrientos at 215-854-5728 or tbarrientos@phillynews.com.
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