Amy Lu's View

Me: “It’s impossible to find underwear at Target that isn’t thongs or boyshorts!”

Chad: “I think you’re exaggerating.”

Of course I was exaggerating, but I was extremely frustrated. I had just spent soooo looong at Target looking at underwear, and I despaired that all my time and effort had been wasted. (I spent even more time at Target because they now apparently hide most of their panties in drawers. Without my friend Sandy who figured this out, I would have thought Target just stopped carrying much in women’s underwear). 

I worried that I failed in my mission to find underwear suitable for an upcoming scene in a play where I would briefly (no pun intended) be onstage wearing an open robe and “flashing” the audience and showing them my bra and panties. It was a short moment–maybe 30 seconds?–but important to my monologue, and to me. Not surprisingly, I was feeling a little nervous and weird about the scene, even though I actively and enthusiastically sought out the role, and being onstage in my underwear isn’t a totally novel experience for me (perhaps I can write more about that in another post). 

I was looking for underwear that was as flattering as possible AND not too risque or revealing. But it also had to fit my character, Mary, and a remark she would make: “It’s laundry day, I don’t normally wear these” suggesting that her panties (or knickers as Mary called them, since the playwright is from New Zealand) were embarrassing in some way. To make things more complicated, I needed two identical pairs of panties, as I needed one to wear and one to toss. 

Oh, and I also needed panties in a bright or dark color, as I was afraid if they were too light or pale they might not show up again my white white skin and the audience would be scared that I WASN’T wearing any underwear at all. 

High waisted “granny” panties (apologies to the grandmas out there) may seem like an obvious choice–funny and modest–but I also wanted underwear that I would wear again in my real life, and the granny style just doesn’t feel flattering or comfortable to me. Since I wasn’t excited about owning any granny panties at all, I definitely didn’t want to buy them in packages of 6–the only way Target sold them. (My hope that I could wear my character underwear in real life also ruled out thongs and boy shorts for me, in addition to neither being stage appropriate. It seems obvious why a thong wouldn’t be a good costume choice for me, but boy shorts seemed too hip for my character). Yes, in theory, I could shop somewhere other than Target, but I had already unsuccessfully looked online and there was just no way I was spending more time going to stores outside my normal life path. 

Eventually, I did end up buying underwear in bulk (I bought two packs of 6 instead of the individually sold panties that I searched so long for) but I was able to find “briefs” rather than granny pants, provided by the classic brand Hanes. Or maybe they were high waisted bikinis–it’s all starting to blend together. I didn’t find undies that were particularly funny, but I went with hot pink–a color bright enough to stand out on my pale skin, and while not necessarily humorous or embarrassing, at least a little silly.

After all that time and pondering, I think I was successful: I felt good about how my monologue went, and audiences seemed entertained and no one seemed too scandalized by their 30 seconds of seeing me in my underwear. AND I’m even finding my 10 new pairs of undies a welcome addition to my wardrobe!

I’ve been using the term “underwear” and “panties” interchangeably throughout this post. I did consult The Google to see what the official difference is (to me, “panty” sounds a little more sexy, “underwear” more utilitarian) and according to Google, “panties” refers specifically to feminine undergarments while “underwear” includes male and female clothing. I also think “underwear” can include bras, but I didn’t feel like I needed to buy a new bra for the play (although I did spend some time thinking about the color and type I should wear, wrestling with similar questions of flattery and modesty). 

A friend who saw the show recently asked how much time goes into putting a production together. He was thinking about things like the time it takes an actor to learn lines and blocking, which is substantial, but I think many would be surprised by the time and energy that can go into the details of costumes, props, set, etc. “Theater is like a package of underwear, you never know what you’re gonna get.” (Something Forrest Gump should have said.)