01/09/2014 09:59 BST | Updated 31/10/2014 05:59 GMT

Why Women Love Their Comfy Undies

I call them Cundies. That's short for Comfy Undies. Wretched and worn pairs of old undies that have become a second skin for many women. 


I questioned my loyalty to Cundies after seeing photos of Gisele Bundchen's new and very skimpy range of lingerie last week. Even the world-famous All Blacks are going skimpy, sort of. A whole pack of them have just strutted down the catwalk at New Zealand Fashion Week modelling tight designer jocks. 

Is it time to bin my pairs of Cundies? I think not. Nope, not even celebrity endorsement of racy underwear can make me. My husband threatened to toss my favourite pairs of Cundies in the rubbish recently. But he'll never tear us apart. My comfy undies are my Bogart and I'm their Bacall. We just fit together. 


Comfy undies are not pretty. They're shapeless, old and unflattering. But their ugliness ensures their survival. Husbands everywhere will never literally tear Cundies from wives because these undies are repellant. Men won't even touch Cundies. I've never heard "get those bloody Cundies off, now!" in a moment of passion because they always kill the passion before it's even begun. Men would request a pair of very long tongs to touch a pair of Cundies. The longer Cundies stay on, the safer they are.


The lacy briefs and g-strings deserted me years ago during my first pregnancy. I was forever pulling them out of my ballooning bottom, so I sought my first pair of Cundies in the discount section at the local department store. They looked reliable but unremarkable, on an unremarkable metal rack, in an unremarkable corner of the store. As my weight continued to fluctuate over the years my Cundies reliably stretched and moulded.


We've been through a lot together and they have proven their sturdiness. Remember those surfboard-style, whopper maternity pads women wear post pregnancy? Cundies rose to that challenge and really carried the weight. I also remember a terrible moment when I thought I'd lost my Cundies. On one occasion my mother was visiting and had finished a load of laundry. She'd mistaken my pair of Cundies for my husband's large, jockey-style undies and had accidentally placed them in his undies drawer. The husband found them. Out came the tongs.


Comfy undies aren't flawless. They sometimes cause VPL and will destroy womanly curves. But they never ride up your crack and they always keep your bottom warm. They have no scratchy bits like the lace andthey have no nasty polyester bits, just 100%, breathable cotton.


So when I see celebrities promoting skimpy lingerie or shiny jocks I snigger, because I bet they own at least one pair of old Cundies. They just pretend they don't. Theirs will also be faded and without elasticity. They'll be at least five years old. I also bet that, like many men, some All Blacks will have favourite pairs with big holes blown out the back of them. Ironically when women complain to men about their own miserable undies the men don't rush to bin them.


On the rare occasions I have bought a new, lacy pair of undies they somehow get shoved to the back of the undies drawer and forgotten. Occasionally they appear on the five-year-old when she's playing dress ups and wearing them over her trousers.


But how things change! Years ago I would have been deathly embarrassed to be seen in a public changing room wearing old Cundies - not anymore. In fact it's surprising how many other modern women, like myself, get around in pairs in Cundies. What they lack in sex appeal they make up for in comfort. I'm predicting they'll stay around a long time.