Exceptional Pants

I have a drawer full of boxer shorts. They’re a mix of various colours, patterns and brands, but are all styled in pretty much the same way: that hybrid, boxer-brief look, which offers the winning combination of length and fit, and actually only dates back (apparently) to the early 90s.

Pretty much the only exception is a pair of blue-and-white, striped, Calvin Klein briefs, which I bought on a whim about four years ago. As a rule, I think of briefs in the context of the old Marks & Spencer five-pack, bought for me by my Mum and replaced only when I grew out of each set. Heading into my teens, I envied the boys who strutted around the school changing rooms in their ‘trendy’ boxer shorts, while I squirmed in the corner in my tighty whities, painfully aware of how little they concealed from external scrutiny and (as I saw it at the time) critical judgement.

It is unsurprising, therefore, that one of the first piece of clothes shopping I did when I got to university – the Promised Land of (relative) financial independence – involved buying several pairs of loose, long, branded boxers: in my head, guaranteed both to impress the ladies and to hide away a part of myself that I desperately wanted to impress them with.

Things have obviously changed a lot since then, but my general disdain for briefs is a legacy that’s still reflected in most of what I wear. That pair of striped Calvins bucks the trend for one simple reason: wearing them makes me feel good.

I’ve written before about my general lack of interest in lingerie, but even in that post I remember noting that for me, the positive value of underwear lies in the impact it has on the person wearing it. If a particular bra makes you feel sexy and confident, that will carry across in most cases to your behaviour, and to your enjoyment of whatever you’re doing. Likewise, something about this pair of briefs managed to overcome my natural aversion to the style enough that I bought them in the first place, and has ensured that ever since then they’ve been one of my ‘go to’ options any time I need an extra spring in my step.

And crucially, that’s not directly appearance-based. One partner used to laugh whenever she saw me in them; she felt the same way I generally do about briefs, and to her, this was just another example of why men shouldn’t prance around in them. I didn’t care too much about that though. I would run my hand over the back of them, or cup the bulge in the front, and feel good about myself, even as she shook her head at my extreme lack of cool.

In the end, choosing clothes should always be about figuring out what will make you comfortable and happy in your own skin. At some point, my one pair of briefs will fray or fade – maybe a hole will appear in the fabric or under the waistband – and I’ll be forced to throw them away. I probably won’t replace them, and will instead go back to having an underwear drawer stuffed exclusively with boxer-briefs.

Until then I’ll continue to enjoy the effect they have on my outlook, and on how I feel about my body. I’ll keep wearing them on dates, or when heading out on a booty call, whether the person I’m seeing thinks they’re sexy or naff. If it’s the former, that’s great, and will make me feel even better about myself; if it’s the latter though, that won’t stop me slipping into (and ultimately out of) them, and it won’t kill my happy vibe…because in the end, I’m not wearing them for her – I’m wearing them for me.