The Life-Changing Power of Pants - The Gloss Magazine

The Life-Changing Power of Pants

Underthing, unmentionables, scanties and drawers, girdles, shapewear and more – all pants have power, be those big ones, or smalls, says Susan Zelouf …

While my industrious husband was busy thinning seedlings in our covidgarden, I was inspired to cull my lingerie drawers, retaining only those scanties, bras and panties, shapewear and foundation garments earning their place in my #ladygarden. A lifetime of yo-yo dieting compounded the challenge of what to save and what to toss, when one’s bust/waist/hip sizes fluctuate wildly, from Ballerina to Ballast.

If you are among a power of women embracing certain freedoms appropriated during lockdown, then your personal roadmap to reopening Ireland may have stipulated the permanent ditching of undergarments-as-bondage gear, while the easing of privately held Covid-19 restrictions might’ve included the unhooking and banishing of even the most innocent soft-cup bra; free at last! If, however, like me, you use pretty little things as mood enhancers, from practical M&S five-pack No VPL Microfibre Hi-Rise Full Briefs (in black, obvs, with matching bra) layered under a Helmut Lang #NYTough black leather miniskirt and cut-out jersey top, to playful Agent Provocateur corsetry (“because you’re worth it”) beneath sweats ( just because), then, dear reader, read on.

Amber J Keyser’s feminist history of women’s underwear Underneath it All serves as a brief (!) guide to the role of lingerie in women’s lives, detailing how intimate, often unseen garments serve to shape women’s bodies and hierarchy, delineating their place in relationships and in the world. From the archaeological discovery of medieval-era bras to the social messaging of how corsetry was worn by upper versus lower class women to the currency of babydoll nighties and strict foundation garments, the story of underwear is both personal and political. Think Christina Hendricks as Joan Holloway in Mad Men, her savvy and smarts going unrecognised, her career trajectory underpinned by girdles with garters and longline bullet bras, a look subverted two decades later by Madonna in Gaultier and Cher in Bob Mackie. Both adopted underwear as outerwear, thrusting their way to the top of pop, weaponising sexuality while championing female empowerment, their extreme attire acting as armour and armament in the gender war.

Whether you dress to please yourself or your tribe, donning artful Marni, cerebral Dries or rebellious Prada, or slinking around in voluptuous Versace, sleek Tom Ford or curvalicious Cavalli just for the bold fun of it or to satisfy a hungry lover’s eye, you may, like many women, undress to a second skin, a slippery stretch of nylon, spandex and latex designed to suck in sag, firm up flab and kick sorry butt, sculpting and smoothing troublesome areas with a pinch, a hug or a squeeze, in compression ranges from light to moderate, firm, extra firm and kill me now. Shapewear is lingerie with Terminator tenacity: it will not quit nipping and tucking and lifting and separating until you peel it off and kill it with kindness – gently handwash in baby shampoo, rinse in cold water and air dry (never in the dryer or you risk destroying elasticity) until the next time you choose to wear something clingy. Which, if you’re like me, is often enough to own every great piece of modern, breathable shapewear in triplicate, from figure-flattering knickers and sculpting slips to thigh-shaping control shorts, high-waisted briefs and thongs, waist cinchers and slimming leggings.

The loss of a loved one is something many of us face into every year, and it will happen to every one of us at some stage.

Legendary couturier and corsetière Mr Pearl constructed extravagant corsets for performance artist Leigh Bowery, fashion designers Thierry Mugler, McQueen, Galliano, Gaultier and Westwood, influential editor/patron/muse the late Isabella Blow and burlesque queen Dita Von Teese. Pearl, represented in museum collections including the Met, trained his own waist to a waspish 18 inches by wearing tightlaced corsets 24/7, described the physical effects of corset-wearing as painfully pleasurable. So, don’t come crying to me about your Spanx, like Ab Fab’s zaftig Edina: “Just for once I want to take my clothes off and not be marked by them.”

As both a committed feminist and a girly girl with edge, I can get behind all manner of lingerie: practical or punishing, pretty or provocative, no-nonsense or naughty by nature, as long as it brings out the best in the wearer. A dear friend I met in Rome on the set of a kitschy Italian TV show in the late 1980s (she was the cheesecake, a London glamour model hired for her pinup bod) still grapples with sourcing the right brassiere for her generous (double GG cup size) breasts. She phoned me, elated after a private fitting at Rigby & Peller, the British luxury lingerie emporium located next to Harrods, credited with providing bespoke undergarments to the Queen and extended royal family since 1960: “I had the queen of all bra-fitters – she was a-MAZ-ing! I spent a fortune, so now I’m going to get rid of all the ones that aren’t the proper size. This year is going to be the year for me!” Now that’s what I call a bra that’s fit for purpose.

BRIEF ENCOUNTERS: Who wears what with what

Under her scrubs, medical devices sales exec JUDI O wears a Victoria’s Secret Very Sexy padded plunge bra in black, edged in jade green lace with matching French knickers.

With a keen eye for interiors, LAURA M goes wild for colour when decorating her living spaces, but underneath it all “it’s either all-black or all-white, depending on the outfit”.

Interior designer LAURA FARRELL wears emerald green bra and pants by Per Una from M&S. “I’ve never worn anything but neutrals so it was a left-of-centre lockdown purchase!”

Beneath her black barrister robe, MS B opts for a nude Chantelle Everyday Lace T-Shirt Bra and matching lace pants: “Lingerie that the coroner would not snicker at if I got hit by a bus and that my mother could take solace in, in that at least I knew quality.”

SUSAN HUNTER of eponymous lingerie boutique believes every woman deserves scanties that feel as beautiful as they look: “I wear silk underwear. Light, warm, cool and diaphanous, silk feels like human skin. Touch is so important, especially now.”

Technologist EMILY ROSS, founder of inkvine.ie, admits “Complicated underwear isn’t for me. Being flat as a board means that I occasionally use a strip of gaffer tape to keep things tidy! Clothes hang perfectly and nothing jiggles! I detest VPL and I’m too old for thongs, so I swear by M&S Brazilian lace-edged briefs; comfortable, sexy, no lines.”

Artist and designer RÓISÍN GARTLAND dislikes feeling confined, so she makes her own silk camisoles and slips “which not only feel delicate against the skin but work as a great foundation, especially under the exceptional leathers, lambskin, suedes and shearlings I work with.”

Busy Galway mom and horse breeder MAGS KINSELLA expresses her playful side in her choice of lingerie: “Marlies Dekker for my intimates, honey!” The Dutch label creates underwear “in which women feel beautiful and seductive, powerful and independent.” Sign us up!

“For me it’s all about comfort,” says jewellery designer EIMEAR LYNCH of ellagreenjewellery.com who rebels against restrictions: I wear cotton underpants and I’ve just started to reintroduce a bra in recent weeks: it didn’t feature during lockdown!”

Colour consultant OLHA KELLY considers underwear “invisible armour, holding me in, in the right places, hiding my c-section scar. Beautiful undies put me in a good mood.”

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