All women break their underwear down into two basic categories: Touch Me Now and Touch Me Never. Any woman who tells you otherwise is a damn dirty liar. Except for maybe nuns – I’m not sure they have much of a choice in the first place.
Touch Me Now knickers (I refuse to type or say the p-word aloud) are pretty self-explanatory. We wear them to be seen or felt, if in no other place than our imagination. You’d be surprised how high the self-esteem meter will go just by putting a cute pair of Hanky Pankies on beneath your jeans.
Touch Me Nevers are a bit trickier. They’re often the stereotypical Granny pair – high-rise cotton, baggy butt, generally unattractive even on Miranda Kerr – but worn for different reasons:
- There is no chance in hell they will sleep with you. They’re going out with you as a favor to someone, in hopes of a free meal, or heightened ennui. Sorry, dude.
- She wants to sleep with you but doesn’t want to be that girl. The one who gives it away. These are usually accompanied by unshaved legs (the moat to the castle) and maybe Mom Jeans (the drawbridge). Underwear, in this metaphor, would be the court jester. You know, designed to be laughed at but ultimately not going to protect you if the enemy has already made it that far.
Honestly, men, there’s not a whole lot that you can do with this information, but I find it helps to get into the mind of your opponent before a big match. Be mindful of the VPL…that definitely puts you on the bad side of Touch Me Never territory, so don’t waste your energy.
Also, men take no for an answer. Just a FYI.