Women say a lot with their underwear. Unfortunately, they say a lot with their mouths, too. KIDDING! Back to the underpants. If you’re not familiar with women’s underwear, this guide is meant to help you out. All of us Holy Taco writers are total Casanova’s (and/or laundry thieves) so we were easily able to pool our weekend research and come up with a handy list of what a woman’s undergarments are trying to tell you. They’re listed in a kind of handy relationship timeline. Follow along closely, virgins.
Congratulations, you bagged a stripper. I’ve only ever seen a pair of these on a woman twice, and both times, I spent all my money. Chances are, when you take a woman home and she’s wearing a pair of these, she’ll tell you “I don’t normally do this”. She’s lying. Follow through, but be careful. If you’re nice to her, or just the right kind of mean, you’ll get to see her in a thong.
You’ve gone just beyond booty call and now you’re the most frequently dialed number in her phone after midnight. These say “Treat me like we’re in a cinemax movie.” These don’t get frequent play, because they look only slightly more comfortable than the aforementioned vagina-floss style panties.
You’ve probably met her parents, or one of her sons that this point. If you’re not the relationship type, and she starts wearing these to bed with you, get out now! You’re about to start appearing in her facebook pictures that are captioned with hearts and shitty song lyrics.
Pure and easy, everyday type of underwear. The kind a lady buys at Old Navy, or Target. Maybe Wal-mart, depending on how low you’re willing to sink. These are the kind of drawls that you probably won’t get to see too often, unless you have a female roommate, or you’re in the first year of a steady relationship. These don’t say much, except “I’m comfortable and I know you’re too timid and complacent to cheat on me. I’ll wear these underwear around you, because I think you’re great and our sexual flame is fading fast.”
You’re screwed, buddy. At this point, you had at least better be on her insurance, because you’re getting nothing physical, and possibly emotional, out of this relationship. Next stop: bloomerville. These are like panties from the days of yore. This is some Colonial Williamsburg shit right here. You’d better develop a granny fetish, fast, if you wanna keep your love alive. But if you’d made it this far, congrats. You’re either madly in love, or your Oedipus complex is stronger than you thought.