Perhaps you are thinking an ode is too elevated for mere panties, but I’m here to tell you I experienced a pair of seemingly ordinary panties that transcended the material world like no other talisman… Once on, luck ran through my day like water after a deluge, like electricity after a surge, like dandelions after the rain, like…well you get the idea, their power was unlike any ancient amulet or rabbit’s foot or leprechaun’s pot or four-leafed clover. The good fortune or whatever mystical magical inference you want to label, these panties had it. Yes, had, but before I reveal their sad end, I will start at their mythical beginning…
These luck-rich panties probably started like most, purchased hastily right before the check-out. Without remembering the exact details, let’s say my shopping outing was on a summer day. Everything must have been going pretty well as I rounded the panty table, all the sizes and styles beckoning in their spiraling layout, my hand skimming over and over the possibilities, round and round, until I settled on my top options. Let’s also imagine I had found a perfect-fitting pair of jeans and on-sale jacket that just about made my day, and these 4 for $20 panties just were an afterthought. However it played out, the bikini styled striped pair with the string sides came home with me one preternatural day.
Brightly colored panties are probably not very grown-up or smart… better to be nude, seamless and well, practical. But give me polka-dots or wide stripes, a string bikini style, and I’m a happy camper all day. This triple-pink-striped pair started out just like that, just one of the bunch, one of the many stuffed into my top right-hand dresser drawer. And at first I was just happy when they surfaced.
How does one start to notice luck? Might be simple, like a string of green lights especially during rush hour, or a parking space with money in the meter right where and when you need it, or that mango you forgot about now perfect, perfect even though you forgot about it. I’m not necessarily talking about winning the lottery type of luck, or being awarded “Artist of the Year” after your neighbor overhears you singing in the shower a Katy Perry song that everyone else is really sick of hearing you sing. But the little stuff that falls into place all day so that by the end of the day you are not half as exhausted as you normally are, that kind of luck. And by and by each time you wear them your day takes on an ease, so much so that it slowly begins to dawn on you, your little striped panties are made of something far more than cotton.
Once this flickering notion entered my consciousness, I paid more attention each time I wore them. Time and time again, good-fortune just paraded itself around with me. People were nicer, days less hectic, and I glided about believing, more and more so with each wearing, that these panties had powers I could only dream of harnessing. As one does with superstition I began to make up rules about the wearing of them: like if when I opened that top right-hand drawer and they were nowhere in sight, I couldn’t rummage to find them. If, however, I did spot even a sliver of those stripes then I could fish them out and wear them with full confidence in their transcendent capability.
As superstitions do, mine grew stronger. I started to plot laundry days and how to fold and stack my panties to increase visibility. I told myself not to overdo the power, not to fixate, that magic comes on currents like night-blooming jasmine and I just had to wait. But I grew impatient. Consequently, this pair got a lot of wear. And as cotton does, it started to wear, first just the tiniest of tears along the elastic. I persevered, undaunted by the obvious. I still maintained their power was not diminishing, not one bit. But small tear lead to larger one, until I only wore them on the most needed of days, days when I thought I would not make it through without that extra something.
It might have been about this time that my eye went to other pairs in my top right-hand dresser drawer. Wearing other panties I would try, just try to focus on how I was feeling, was this a lucky day or not, I would ask… but just having to ask made me know, know for sure, those other panties just fell flat. But then I wondered couldn’t there be another pair out there, just waiting for me, just waiting to make magic? I bought everything, a frilly polka-dot boy short pair, a solid black silk and even one that looked like confetti on lace. But nothing.
Eventually the tears grew beyond wearability. I still kept the lucky pair in my drawer, hoping against hope they would extend their powers before the fateful day I had to throw them out, which is were I am today, somewhat stripped of my stripes and wondering where my luck will turn up next.