#I HAVE to wear high rise pants and I literally cannot wear jeans unless they are stretchy becuase I’m like… lumpy JANSNSJSD

[hawnks]

What would you guys wear if social conventions were a thing? What would your ideal aesthetic be 🎤

[novelconcepts]

anything that involves freckles. go nuts

Gonna go ahead and double up on a recent request of @scavenger-rey‘s, while we’re at it. Just for giggles.

Jamie has a surprising number of freckles. Not that it’s Dani’s business what hidden secrets are stamped into her skin. Not that Dani needs to be looking at her skin at all. 

Not that she can help it, either, with Jamie doing things like this. 

“You look warm, Miss Clayton,” Hannah points out, depositing a tray upon the little table with an arch smile. “Perhaps you’d like to take a leaf out of our groundskeeper’s book?”

Dani shoots her a sharp look, remembering just in time two very important details: one, that she has only known Hannah for two months, and therefore is not quite at the slapping at her arm in frustration stage of friendship; and two, that Hannah does not know what’s going on in her head every time Jamie’s around.

Hannah might suspect with the certainty of a particularly clever detective breaking down a fourth-grader’s criminal activity, but she does not know, and that has to count for something.

“She doesn’t--usually do this.” Heaven help her, was that her voice? Her voice, which is generally high and quick and never tinged with that particularly raw shade? 

“She does when it’s hot enough.” Hannah sounds entirely unimpressed. “Every time, I have to spend half the afternoon explaining to Flora why she’s required to keep all her clothes on.”

Someone should probably have that talk with Jamie, Dani thinks wildly. Someone should definitely explain to Jamie, in no uncertain terms, how dangerous it is for her to be waltzing around the grounds in overalls and a sports bra, her hair pulled out of her face. Someone should definitely get across to Jamie how it is utterly distracting, and not the least bit professional for someone like Dani--who is a co-worker, who is meant to be keeping children out of trouble, and has somehow found it’s much harder to keep herself out of it instead--to deal with.

“Water,” Hannah advises. “Before you keel over. Would you like me to tell her it’s making you uncomfortable?”

Judging by the raised brow, the tilt of Hannah’s smile, the barely-restrained note of amusement in her voice, it’s clear she knows uncomfortable isn't exactly the word. Dani shakes her head. 

“No. I’m. I’m fine.”

“Ah,” Jamie says cheerfully, right on cue. “Hannah, my love, you are a godsend.”

She’s just there, pressed nearly to Dani’s back, reaching over for a glass of ice water. She’s there, and her skin is rosy with the lightest sunburn, and Dani thought Hannah was being cheeky about the whole keeling over jab, but on second thought--

“All right, Poppins?” Jamie’s free hand has wound around her forearm, she realizes. Jamie is looking at her with mild concern, she realizes. Probably because she is quite literally swaying in place.

“Hot,” she croaks. There are freckles on Jamie’s hand, too--and wrist, splashed at random up her arm. There are more than a few on the bare curve of her shoulder. She’s still mentally tallying them up when Jamie presses her gently toward a chair. 

“Didn’t dress for it,” she observes, looking Dani over with worried eyes. “Should take off that jumper before it kills you.”

Have to keep it on, Dani thinks nonsensically--though, it’s true, she had dressed for the gray of this morning, not the heatwave the afternoon has become. Still. Have to keep it on, and maybe add a few more layers, besides, because she can’t let herself linger on what she might look like to Jamie otherwise.

Can’t linger on how Jamie’s eyes might drift over her skin if she were to strip down to a tank top and shorts. Can’t linger, worst of all, on how it might feel if Jamie were to pull her aside--

“Poppins?” Jamie is waving a hand up and down in front of her face. “Right, enough of this. With me.”

There’s a gentle command in her voice Dani finds herself following without thinking. She catches herself taking two steps away from the chair, pauses, stands there looking helplessly back at Hannah.

“I,” Hannah says magnanimously, “think I can manage the children. Go.”

“C’mon,” Jamie adds, and now her hand is in Dani’s somehow, her fingers tightening around Dani’s like this is the most normal use of her body. She gives a light pull, and Dani is suddenly trailing along at her heels, trying desperately not to stare at the back of her neck, the skin shining up from the break in denim at her side. 

Freckles, she thinks wildly. I shouldn’t know she has freckles. 

“You still with me?” Jamie is tugging her, she registers, toward the greenhouse. She gives a shaky nod. “Good. Would hate to have to give you mouth to mouth.”

“You don’t give mouth to mouth for sunstroke,” Dani replies in a voice she still doesn’t recognize. Jamie sends a smile over her shoulder.

“No? My mistake.”

It’s not flirting, Dani tells herself. Jamie is her co-worker, one who keeps to herself and doesn’t have any reason at all to flirt. Jamie is just being kind, worrying over her now, because Dani’s gone and lost her mind over skin and freckles and the spot at the back of Jamie’s neck that leads her brain helplessly into wonder what that tastes like territory--

“In,” Jamie says, gesturing to the door of the greenhouse. “Got a spare set of clothes you can borrow.”

“I have clothes,” Dani points out. Jamie laughs.

“I’ve seen your clothes. They’re not going to help today.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” This is good. This, a mild flush of irritation, distracts nicely from the way Jamie looks crouching beside a trunk Dani’s never noticed beneath one of the tables. 

It almost distracts from the way Jamie looks up at her, a teasing grin playing around her mouth. 

“They’re well and good,” she says, “for carting around after the little beasts. Here. Got nothin’ in pink, ‘m afraid.”

She’s holding up a white t-shirt with the sleeves shorn off--the frayed threads at the shoulders suggest Jamie cut them free herself, possibly in the middle of a workday--and a pair of denim shorts. Unable to find a polite method of declining, Dani accepts. 

“I’ll...just go up to the house to change, I guess--”

“Nah.” Jamie twists around, hands in her pockets, making a point of gazing off in the opposite direction. “Silly to waste the time. Go on, before Hannah thinks I’ve lured you off to commit a murder...”

It’d be kinder, some part of Dani thinks. Standing with Jamie’s clothes clamped against her chest, sweat creeping down the back of her neck, watching Jamie tip her head back and whistle, is entirely painful. 

Particularly when Jamie, evidently registering the lack of rustling fabric, chances a glance over her shoulder and adds, “Unless you need help there, Poppins?”

Dani grimaces. Jamie grins. For a moment, she thinks the rest of the afternoon will become this: staring at one another in a sweltering greenhouse, Jamie watching her like she knows exactly what Dani has been trying so hard not to think about lately.

Jamie smiling like she’s got no problem with Dani counting up all those freckles. 

“Okay, okay, turn around.” She heaves a sigh, waiting for Jamie to rotate back before hauling the sweater over her head. It’s impossible to deny the relief that floods in the minute she’s free of it, and how much better Jamie’s shirt feels against her sticky skin. 

The same cannot be said for the shorts.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she says before she can stop herself. They are, admittedly, nearly the same height and close enough in build for most things--but does Jamie really wear these? 

“Only when it’s this fuckin’ hot,” Jamie says, still facing the other way. Dani closes her eyes. “Ah, you didn’t mean to say that part out loud, did you?”

“Just--they’re so--” They’re not shorts, she thinks, trying to tug down the hem. They’re like two tiny squares of fabric haphazardly stitched together. The pockets are longer than the pants themselves, for Christ’s sake. “You wear these around people?”

“Just the ones I like,” Jamie says idly, and Dani hates herself a little for being disappointed she’s never seen them before. 

“I can’t face Hannah like this, she’ll laugh herself sick.”

Jamie, at last, twists at the waist. Her eyes drift down Dani’s frame, her lips parting slightly. 

“They, um. Feel less short when they’re on me.”

Dani is going to combust, and then there will be nothing to worry about. No freckles. No shorts. Certainly not the drag of Jamie’s eyes up her legs. Dani combusts here and now, and gets out of all of it almost painlessly.

“No, hey.” Jamie is closing the gap between them, reaching out. Her hands find Dani’s, prying her clawing fingers away from the hem of the shorts. “If you feel weird, you can put your jeans back on. Was only trying to...to help.”

Her voice has gone weirdly slack, Dani registers. Weirdly breathy. Her eyes are still wide, still fixed on Dani’s legs, a color rising in her cheeks that has little to do with her sunburn. 

“What?” Dani asks--less because she wants to know, and more because she can’t stand not knowing. Jamie’s fingers are soft around her own, her breath seeming to hitch in her chest.

“Nothing. You, ah. Have freckles.” Jamie gives her head a shake, blinking rapidly. Her hands fall away from Dani’s. “Never noticed before.”

She’s staring at Dani like she’s never seen her before, and Dani suddenly wonders what courage would look like in this sweltering room. If it would look like hooking a hand around the strap of Jamie’s overalls. If it would look like pulling Jamie in. Letting Jamie press her back against the nearest table. Letting Jamie’s fingers trace up beneath the hem of these ludicrously-short shorts. 

Courage, she thinks, would taste like sweat and mint, like freckles mapped under a curious tongue. It would sound like Jamie’s voice muffled against her neck, the snarl of a zipper lowering in an otherwise-silent jungle of glass and greenery, the thump of a shirt tossed recklessly to the ground--

“Right,” Jamie says, and swings back a step. Her smile is sitting crookedly on her lips, a funny little tilt that makes her look younger, somehow. “I should--should get back to work. Just. Just toss ‘em wherever.”

Courage, Dani thinks, wanting so badly to grasp her shoulder as she turns. She could. She could close her fingers around nearly-bare skin and sink her mouth against the back of Jamie’s neck. She could slide a hand up Jamie’s stomach, pull her backward, feel her tremble under a hungry kiss tattooed to the freckles at her nape. 

She could. 

If she were just a little braver. 

But Jamie is already walking away, one hand tousling her hair nearly out of its bun. Jamie is already walking away, faster than Dani’s ever seen her walk anywhere. 

You, ah. Have freckles, she’d said in a voice like a woman dreaming. Dani bites her lip. 

The shorts, she thinks, could have their uses after all.

[doberbutts]

 Okay so this is going to get long and more than a little bit tmi but it’s a post summing up some strides I’ve made regarding my own transgender journey and I wanted a place to talk about it and maybe help some BabyTrans figure themselves out along the way so I’m putting it under the cut but it’ll go here >:V

Anyway long story short my insurance settlement from my car accident finally figured itself out and I found myself suddenly $30k richer and immediately spent about $10k of that digging myself out of a very deep debt hole I’ve been wallowing in for a while so now I have some actual financial stability plus have some money to throw at some things that would probably make my life a bit better.

And since I have the money to throw at some things, I bought myself a few new binders and also a packer. Binders because my old one was literally disintegrating- part of that is my fault, washing binders in an industrial machine on high heat plus throwing it in the dryer means your binder falls apart faster than it should. Remember I’m from the very end of Ye Olden Days of transmasc products, which means previously most binders lasted a year at most. My binder made it 2.5 years before giving up and becoming a sports bra instead. I’ve learned from my mistakes and treat my binder(s) much more gently now, plus I have more than one so I can rotate them out and not wear the same binder 8-12 hours daily for 2.5 years and kill it doing exactly the same shit.

For reference sake, I’m 5′10′’, 180lbs, 36C bust, and fit a XL from gc2b. Which is who I bought both my previous binder and my current set from. They are low cost, lightweight, well made, and LGBT-owned and operated which makes me super into buying from them instead of some of the other companies offering something similar.

Being that I am biracial and finding something my skintone is always somewhat... interesting... I followed the internet’s suggestion and went with PeeCock for the packer. I’d bought a zip binder from them a few years ago and actually found that to be the most comfortable binder I’ve ever used in the history of ever, but I will say the durability of zip binders is low compared to pull-over binders in my experience, as the zipper exploded one day when I bent down to pick up a small dropped item. I’d had the binder and was rotating its use with my pullover gc2b for about 6 months when this happened, and was in public when I went from flat chested to big uncontained tiddies in the span of seconds. Not great. I’ve been told that probably means it was a little too small for me, but PeeCock is a company based in Singapore, and their sizes like most East Asian clothing do run quite a bit small (I was a XXL in PeeCock sizes when I wore a size L gc2b binder) so there’s not really a lot of wiggle room for me to go up in size. Additionally their sizing taps out at XXXL so anyone who’s bigger than me in the chest/torso is a bit out of luck for their binders. A shame, because that zip binder was so comfortable I fell asleep in it forgetting I even had it on more than once.

Anyway. Since I did like that binder even though we had the wardrobe mishap, and the internet had pretty good reviews on the PeeCock packers because they are multifunctional and actually make correct skin tones for black dudes, I got one. Since money wasn’t an issue I did get the most recent model which was not cheap (~$300) and so far I like it a lot. I got so used to wearing it that when I take it off to clean it, it actually really bothers me. The weight of it is... comforting, in a way.

HOWEVER I did see a bunch of reviews about how I would be super likely to pee on myself the first time using it and then used it and went “wow I don’t have any idea what you guys are talking about this is easy” aaaaand... then peed on myself by accident. Gotta control your stream or things are going to overflow and you’re going to be really sad. And wet. And stinky. Thankfully I had the forethought to practice at home before actually doing this at work/public restrooms but be warned. Being that this is my first one I can’t say if this is common with all packers however I told several of my transmasc friends that do pack and use STP about this experience and they all assured me they did the exact same thing on and off for the first couple weeks and most of them do not have the same brand. We’ve yet to have a repeat at least?

Plus there’s a little attachment rod so I can use it for sexy times with the boyf and also feel what I’m doing to him so there’s that too. 10/10 A+ experience would recommend. The packaging warns you to be careful how you pack because of the way the silicone works, and your partner cannot be on top or ride you, so keep that in mind if you’re considering it. Cleaning is pretty straightforward however and packing feels correct and natural as long as you follow a few rules:

I’ve discovered that whatever size you consider a perfect fit? Unless you like really relaxed fit for your pants, you’ll need to go a size up. I wear tighter clothing and usually skinny jeans at that, and my exact perfect size has been 34/32 for some time now. When packing I need to go up to 36/32 because otherwise wow that crotch is way too tight. I can’t sit down in one of my pairs of jeans and I’m legit sad about it. I also can’t have anything in the pockets of a different pair of jeans or else I have the same tight crotch problem. I went up a size in underwear and that was more comfortable, so I ordered new pants from online and I’ll see if that helps as much as I’m expecting it too.

Speaking of underwear, ymmv, but I genuinely did not expect this. Jockstraps? Super comfy, super durable, and super convenient. Additionally unlike boxers or even briefs, I don’t need a special packing-specific design to be comfortable in one. I never wore one before and honestly this doesn’t even feel like wearing underwear. They’re really just a banana hammock anyway so that’s probably a large part of it, but honestly I would definitely recommend trying them if you haven’t yet. I do have a few pairs of packing briefs and boxers, as well as normal briefs and boxers, and I’ve been alternating between the various types of undies to see which ones I prefer, but I already know my decision so I bought several because I can. One word of advice, though... if your pants ride down understand that your entire butt will be out. I don’t wear low rise pants because they draw too much attention to my waistline and make me super dysphoric, but those that do, watch out.

Jockmail is highly rated and multiple transmasc websites recommend them for packing and I can absolutely see why. Usually the waistband of my underwear irritates my skin and so I was dubious because Jockmail stuff- being that it’s for athletic wear- has a minimum waistband of about 2in... but it’s actually more comfortable and less irritating, rather than the other way around. They also have briefs, boxers (more like short shorts), and boxer briefs, which I also have of the same brand, but... not as comfy. Once again Jockmail is a Hong Kong company so like all East Asian clothes, they run small. I’m a M in most men’s clothing sizes... I am XXL in Jockmail. I also had purchased a brief harness from PeeCock (goes by inches for waist) as well. (Also where I discovered you need to go a size up- I bought a 34in waist brief from PeeCock and it’s a tad tight. I bought a 36in waist brief from Jockmail and it’s perfect. I have been buying 34in waist things for the past few years now- I didn’t suddenly gain 2 inches at the waist, I did suddenly gain a need for a deeper crotch)

If you look down your body from above it will be super obvious that there is a dick there and you will go “oh god I look like I have an erection”. I have been reliably informed that it is actually not true and if you pack correctly a bulge will be there but not so obvious that it looks like you have a raging hardon the whole time. Better to look in the mirror, rather than down your tummy.

(Additionally I voiced my doubts to my boyf who immediately reminded me that most people don’t spend their time staring at someone’s crotch and as long as I wasn’t constantly messing with mine, no one was likely to notice even if I did have an obnoxiously obvious bulge. He then gave me some tips on how to let it hang if I wanted a “natural” look, and when we walked around while I had it on he made sure to check in on my mental health. He’s cute y’all.)

Some (cis) guys will have a specific leg they like to let things hang against. Some switch it up. Some are okay with it hanging straight down provided there’s not a lot of squish happening. Find what feel comfortable and needs the least amount of adjustment for you, and then stick with that. For me, I’ve found straight down or off to the left feels better- a friend of mine prefers off to the right, another straight down only, etc. Also can depend on the size- some (cis) guys I know are a bit smaller down below and are more comfortable with straight down than those with larger weiners.

If you pack you probably need to shave. I was very uncomfortable until I shaved. Now I feel much better packing. So trim that jungle or else you might feel a pinch every few minutes when a hair gets pulled.

And there you have me this morning before I got dressed. As you can see, both fit very nicely. I’m not particularly happy with my stomach or feminine hip set but eh, I cover those with layers and no one bats an eye.

At this point it’s figuring out the whole hormones thing, yelling at my insurance to cover certain surgeries, and... fixing some minor details with my wardrobe... and I’m feeling way more confident than I was a few years ago.

Anyway if anyone has questions feel free to hit me up

[toxinfox]

Things I Hate About Women’s Clothing: A Rant List

 (Some of this is probably highly relatable to many people, some of it is personal taste and may not resonate with everyone.)

Bras:

               Dear Bra Industry, you’re one of the only fragments of the world of women’s clothing that’s based on actual numbers and measurements. WHY, for the love of God, are you not STANDARDIZED? Why is it possible to be a different cup –or even band—size in different brands? Like, there should not be this much room for difference and error.

Another thing about bras, and this may just be a pet peeve of mine and not shared by anyone else: I hate (haaaaaaaaate) that cup sizes are determined via the ratio between your ribcage measurement and your bust measurement. This is what makes it so that, if you have to go up or down a band size, your cup size changes too… even if your boob size hasn’t changed at all. This is stupid. Why oh why can’t we base fucking cup sizes on a standardized volume, rather than a ratio? (Don’t even try to defend the ratio method to me; I don’t want to hear it.)

Patterns:

               I’ll preface this rant by admitting that this one is mostly just about taste preference but… I’m sorry, why are there so many hideous patterns out there? Why are there so many ugly florals in god awful color combinations that look like they came off of a couch from the 70s? Why, in spite of the widespread knowledge that vertical stripes are more slimming, are horizontal stripes a million times more common? Why, whyyyyyy are we still making huge volumes of clothing in colors and patterns that flatter maybe 0.2% of the population?

Jeans/pants:

               Oh my god. Pants/jeans designers, what do you have against women with actual butts??? All I want is a mid-rise, dark wash pair of jeans that actually stay where I put them. Without a belt, because fuck belts, they’re uncomfortable and don’t work anyway. But no! It’s like jeans manufacturers haven’t figured out that the BACK OF THE PANTS might need more ROOM than the FRONT. Like, a LOT more. Please, dear god.

               Also, and again this is a style-based thing… I’d like to see two specific styles die a horrible, flaming death:  ‘artfully shredded’ and ‘skinny jeans’. That’s right, I said it, fuck skinny jeans and jeggings. Fuck them. I hate them. They make my legs look thicker than they already actually are. This is the opposite of what I want in my jeans. Why did boot cut have to go away? It was about the only thing that actually made my legs look GOOD.

Skirts:

               Women have hips. Or at least, many, many women have hips. Hips and butts. Can we PLEASE design skirts that don’t make that whole situation worse? Much like my gripe about jeans, can we please design skirts that take into account the fact that the back is gonna need more room? I’m tired of trying on a skirt that hits mid-thigh in front… and barely covers my rear in the back. Seriously. I don’t want to be eternally consigned to knee-length or maxi skirts. The former looks frumpy and the latter is nightmarish on a hot day, or when trying to do anything remotely physical, like go up stairs, or stand up from a crouch. (See how many times you step on your skirt hem! Such a fun game.)

Fabric:

               I know that this is largely a quality problem more common in cheap clothing, but I’m going to whine anyway-- …can our shirts be less sheer? Can they be made of fabric that doesn’t act like Velcro and make my usually-behaved hair turn into a snarled rat’s nest from rubbing against it all day? Can skirts maybe NOT be made of static electricity and wrinkles? Can the linings in my jackets stop ripping in twelve places just from wearing it for a day? It’s likely that I’m just too broke to buy clothing made of good fabric, but… I’m too broke to buy clothing made of good fabric, folks. My price range is Target, Ross, and Goodwill. I make do. 

Shoes:

               Pointy-toed shoes are neither cute nor comfortable. I want them to die a horrible, horrible death, buried up the anus of whoever invented them. Seriously. Who looks at pointy-toed shoes and thinks ‘why yes, I would like to own witch shoes!’ any time outside the context of Halloween?

               Also, sandals. Every year, I look for summer sandals that are A) Not ugly, B) don’t chafe, and C) aren’t a rent payment. I wore one pair of sandals for eight years, until they were literally falling apart, before I found another acceptable pair. Eight. Years.

               Just… why are so many shoes so, so ugly? Why?

Torso problems:

               So, I have a long torso. I know this won’t apply to everyone, but I’m sure anyone else who DOES have this problem will hear me.

               So, oh my god, shopping for anything that has to fit between shoulders and hips. Shirts are too short, unless you either buy nothing but tunics (not always in style, and a high likelihood of looking frumpy if done wrong, especially if you have hips), or wear high-wasted pants (aka the devil). So you end up with that 1-2 inch skin gap between your shirt and your pants waistband. Is that just me? That can’t just be me.

               One piece swimsuits are right out. Either they become instant wedgies, or dip waaaaay too low over the boobs, risking a ‘wardrobe malfunction’, or they simply stretch taut between your shoulders and your crotch, and don’t conform to your curves at all, making you look like a lumpy cylinder. Going up a size makes them wider, not longer, which doesn’t help.

               Dresses… it’s similar to the problem with skirts, except it’s all-around. Everything is an inch or so shorter on a long-torso than a regular or short one. And an inch on a skirt can make a difference. (If you compound ‘long torso’ with ‘big booty’, which is my specific problem, dress-shopping for anything but knee-length or longer is a nightmare.)

               Bodysuits, leotards, and most other dancewear is just right out. Especially if, again, you have that butt problem, too.

What I want:

I want a bra that fits snugly, comfortably, supportively. The straps don’t dig into my shoulders. The cups actually hold my boobs properly, without spillage. The underwire doesn’t dig in. There aren’t like twelve hooks to hook, or special instructions regarding how to put the damned thing on. (No, I’m NOT going to ‘bend over, let my boobs fall into the cups, and hook the bra behind my back, then stand up’. I CANNOT hook a bra behind my back. I’m going to put my goddamn bra on the normal way by hooking it in front of me, turning it around, pulling it up into place, and adjusting until everything sits properly, so there.) I also want this bra to NOT be ugly and NOT be super expensive, and I don’t want to have to try on 40 goddamn bras to find this mythical perfect bra.

I want shirts that aren’t sheer. That don’t make rat nests out of my hair. That fit my long, slim torso and boobs, but that are also cut to accommodate my curvy hips. I want to never deal with the ‘gap’ between my pants and shirt again, especially in the back. I want them to not be ugly colors, or have hideous patterns on them. I want sleeves I can push up, which will actually STAY up. I’ve got a job to do, sleeves just get in the way sometimes. Also not hideously expensive.

I want pants that accommodate my butt. That STAY PUT without a belt, because someone designed them to be worn by someone with a butt. They’re cut well, have stretch where stretch is needed. They don’t gape in the back. They don’t shimmy down when I bend, walk, or crouch. I don’t have to pull them up every five minutes. I don’t want skinny jeans that make my legs look like telephone poles in sausage casings. I want a bit of flare to balance out my thick thighs and hips. I want my pant legs the right length for my (proportionally short) legs without having to take my jeans to a tailor to be altered. Because I don’t have the time or money for that. Again, not expensive, because, honey, I’m broke, have you noticed yet?

I want shoes that aren’t ugly. That don’t hurt my feet. That don’t break the bank. Basic black is fine for 90% of what I need. I don’t need or want ‘cute’ buckles or bows or anything. Just simple. I’m not asking for high heels I can walk five miles in, but I’d like sandals I can do at least one in without blisters, and sneakers and slip-on flats I can work a full day on my feet in.

I want skirts whose front and back hem hit the SAME SPOT on my leg. (Holy Grail! Unicorn!) That don’t wrinkle if I look at them funny, or stick to my legs like an insecure toddler.

I want underwear that fits, and doesn’t become a wedgie every time I move.(No thongs.) That don’t peek up over the back waistband of my pants. I want the crotch area of the underwear to actually be centered over MY crotch, rather than being halfway back because that pair of undies doesn’t accommodate my butt. Again. (*sigh*)

 …you know, about the only thing I don’t have any complaints about are socks. Socks are awesome. 

I’m not really looking for suggestions here, or people telling me I’m ‘just wearing the wrong size’, or telling me I’m doing it wrong. Women’s clothing just sucks. Can we all just agree on that?