Photo by Mihai Stefan on Unsplash

I was standing in a really long line at a famous lingerie store and I noticed I was holding my breath. I was realized I was feeling really uptight. My muscles felt taught and my face rigid. My breathing was shallow. Catchy music play over the shoppers with a sexy woman’s voice singing about how she was going to be in love and her chosen love object would be too. The line behind and front of me was comprised of women. All the women were different and none really looking like the huge artsy images of flawless women scantily clad in a all styles and forms of lingerie that one could possibly imagine. Their bodies were thin, except they miraculously had been strategically enhanced with  bountiful and voluptuous curves.  Their stomachs were muscular and taught. Their facial features perfectly symmetrical and skin like a dewy peach. It was amazing, because I don’t think it really mattered. We all wanted the lingerie anyway. We were all kind of immersed in a world of beauty, music and heavenly sweet perfumes. I decided I better relax and enjoy it and started deep breathing. Focusing on my breath, diligently counting, I relaxed. The bright colors lifted my mood and were joyful. Everyone was having a great time in this store. It was exciting and fun to look at the gleaming displays and the clever combinations of fabric and lace. Women laughed and giggled together as they pulled out daring see through concoctions. Other women held their husband’s hands and pulled them through the aisles, their husbands with dazed and happy faces absorbing the overflowing femininity.

The sales staff were young and wore outfits from the stores line. The shop girls were energetic and willing to help you find your size or lack of and talk about the state of fashion and why was everything made so small nowadays. Not that they had to worry, but they were kind and commiserated.

I let myself become immersed in the experience and welcomed the entertainment. It was a great break from the serious job of nursing. Here I didn’t have to worry about accurate doses and finding just the right specialist. This was all play and fun. I watched moms as they followed their daughters, commenting and encouraging. As I pulled open a wide black lacquered drawer, the drawer slid out effortlessly and an array of gorgeous satin and silks in every hue of the rainbow peeked out. A daughter and mom stood next to me oohing and awing and this time the daughter was encouraging. Her mom chose a pair of glittering silver satin briefs. “Mom, yes, you have to get those, good choice mom!” Her mom, laughed and popped the briefs into her store bag. “I’m glad you’re getting with it again, Mom!” I guessed mom had been through something. A failed relationship? Sickness? Death of loved one? Who knew? That was middle age, my age. You never knew what was next. One day you could be sailing along and then a hurricane hit and ripped your sails to shreds. Hopefully, you could get up again, so far I did. And I hoped everybody did. My neighbors, my friends, all the people in the world. I didn’t want anyone to be overcome and not feel like they couldn’t get up and try again.

Something as simple as a bright happy store was helpful and encouraging. It bust through the cave of a bad experience and created light where the light had been snuffed out by a life trauma or bad news. Life went on and people had fun. You could choose to relax and enjoy the show or lock it out and continue down a dark path. Of course, it’s not as easy as just walking into a fun underwear store. There are so many kinds of depression and ways to overcome it that this story could actually be a book; and yes, there are so many books about the subject already. But I regress, because this story is about a store and people and how it means absolutely nothing, but can mean very much depending on the individuals experiencing it. It gives Kudos to the corporate world and Madison Avenue advertising executives who develop and contrive these businesses that entertain people. Of course, it’s business, it’s to make money, but isn’t it a wonderful way to do it? To bring joy, excitement and hope to so many people and doing it all with just silky, pretty underwear.

Photo by Demetrius Washington on Unsplash

Many women will gag at this concept, because they believe that products like this objectify woman and promote a certain treatment of women as sex objects. I can’t really say that they are wrong, but I just don’t like to waste my energy getting mad and prefer to see why it works rather than why it shouldn’t work. And maybe some corporation, someday will create a store like this for men. That would be a really fun store. I can picture it now, hard rock blasting over the speaker with huge posters of gorgeous athletes modelling all kinds of form fitting designs. I think everyone would love it and then men could stop having to buy their personals at large boring chain stores with house cleaners and construction materials. Why shouldn’t they have a special store too? Why shouldn’t they have fun too?