Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.Lingerie is one of life’s pleasures. Shouldn’t it be something you love? If you’ve been reaching into your underwear drawer each day for the same old style of panties, putting yourself into an uncomfortable bra or thinking you don’t look good in lingerie, we have news. Whether you have minimal cleavage, an ample booty, or an apple- or pear-shaped body, there is gorgeous lingerie out there for you!
The state of your underthings may in truth modify your state of mind. How numerous of us have picked a pair of panties we liked because we were sentiment good that day? Or rummaged around our drawers for a pair we disliked because we woke up sentiment down in the dumps? Instead, imagine putting on sexy French lingerie under your business suit and sentiment excessively affected emotionally and empowered, or putting on a flirty bra beneath a T-shirt and sentiment effeminate and confident.
Lingerie will have to be chosen with as much care and thought as you choose your makeup. You need the perfective foundation before you get started making yourself finelooking with blush, mascara, eyeliner. Lingerie is the same way. A foundation that fits well means more-flattering clothing. Your undergarments may make or break your look: smooth T-shirt bras make that tight white T look like a million bucks; the right panties beneath tight pants will have humans doing a double take (and not because you have visible panty lines); and shapewear may smooth out lumps and bumps in that clingy cocktail dress. We could go on and on. And we will.
Just like fashion, lingerie is a form of self-expression. When you pair a corset top with a pencil skirt, or switch out plain hosiery with nude fishnets, you’re showing your sense of style and making a statement.
Intimate apparel likewise mimics fashion by following color and cultural trends. You probably wouldn’t wear the same style of shoes for years on end, so it’s logical that your tastes and selections in lingerie also evolve and change through the decades.
In our twenties, we mainly dress in lingerie for our men. In our thirties, we learn to wear and be grateful for lingerie for ourselves. In our forties, we may either run into a rut or learn in regards to new styles and how to wear them. In our fifties and beyond, we may feel fundamentals are the way to go, or we may choose to splurge on luxuriousness lingerie as a treat. As decades go by, we discover that wearing lingerie transcends putting on a bra that fits. It’s more in regards to embracing our femininity, enjoying our bodies and cherishing ourselves.
No matter your age, with the aid of this book you will learn how to take pleasure in lingerie in every day wear, transforming the conception of “underwear” into lingerie you love. Both lingerie virgins and veterans will gain clear or deep perception into their own lingerie styles and receive practical tips on how to confdently and correctly wear intimate apparel. From bras to hosiery, we’ll sort it all out and expose what these underpinnings are all about. We’ll suggest brands for each shape and budget. Brides-to-be will gain from our tips on wedding and honeymoon lingerie. We’ll give you a little history lesson, chronicling necessary lingerie dates, events and milestones. We will even give you seduction scenarios—in the event your imagination runs less than wild.
All you’ll need to do is invest a bit of time determining your style and needs. We’ll hold your hand and walk you through it. Trust us, it will be well worth the investment. Think you’re alone in the process? Au contraire! We have included personal stories from women of all ages and with all dissimilar body types regarding their escapades and experiences with lingerie.
So let’s get going and find out what’s really underneath it all. But before we do, here’s a little in regards to us and how we came to write this book.
Jen: My Love Affair with Lingerie
When I grew up in the 1980s, lingerie was as much a share of fashion as it was part of pop culture. If you do not forget the lace anklet socks and pumps, you know what I’m talking about. From a young age I was significantly influenced by the fusion of lingerie and daily wear.
In junior high I worshipped Madonna: I sported white, fingerless lace gloves and layered multiple lace shirts over my training bra. I even donned a bogus above-the-lip mole one year at camp. (It was eyeliner; shhh, don’t tell anyone.) By the time I was in high school, it seemed like a natural progression to shop at Victoria’s Secret and Frederick’s of Hollywood at the local mall.
As a high school sophomore I wore fishnets under my cutoff jeans. I dressed in a garter belt with thigh highs under skirts at sixteen. At nineteen I frequented a local reggae venue in northern California, where I wore a burgundy velvet bra and not much else. The doorman never carded me. I felt effeminate and powerful—and I still can’t believe my mom let me out of the house. By the time I finished college, lingerie was a beloved portion of my wardrobe, something that kept memories of hot summer concerts and adventurous young love.
On a trip to France in 2001, my boyfriend—now husband—and I found ourselves in a little shop on the Champs-Élysées called Lise Charmel. He purchased me a sheer, black demi bra and knickers set with delicate, red foral embroidery. It was breathtaking. Even on sale, it cost more than one hundred and fifty dollars. I couldn’t believe he splurged like that. Later, when I put the set on for the firstborn time, I felt wholly transformed. My man gasped when I walked out of our hotel bathroom.
I couldn’t stop smiling. It was then I ran into the true power of lingerie—and also produced my champagne taste for underwear.
My love of lingerie drove me to open my own shop in Seattle a year later. The journeying has been instructional and never dull. Helping women with their underthings is a very intimate experience, and it requires a lot of trust on each customer’s part. I aid women in finding their actual bra size, which celebrates and enhances their breasts: “Yes, my love, you are a 34C, not a 36A. Enjoy!” I likewise specialize in picking out the perfective cut and style of lingerie for each woman’s body type. It has been exceedingly pleasurable to help women express themselves through their lingerie, while encouraging them to have fun along the way.
The idea for this book came in regards to over cocktails with a good deal of girlfriends. Following a couple of margaritas, the speech turned to how to wear lingerie for a man. After an agreeably diverting and instructional discussion—and more than a few hoots and hollers—my friends said, “You must write a book!” I considered my conversations over the years with clients and their questions when it comes to lingerie, from practical to naughty, and I realized women could use a lingerie book when it comes to what to wear and how to wear it.
As for my personal kinship with lingerie, these days my routine has simplifed. As a wife, mother and business owner, I don’t see nightlife very often times and don’t always have time to pamper myself. My intimate apparel is one thing I don’t skimp on, so I always have a little luxuriousness in my each and everyday life. I feel alluring when I put on a beauteous nightgown before bed, and I feel put together because my bra and panties match and are flattering. But most of all, I adore the realization that I am taking care of myself by loving the primary thing I put on my body: my underwear. Frankly, I is worthy of this little bit of luxury—all women do.
Thus, my love affair with lingerie continues. This book is devoted to all you lovely ladies who are ready for a new adventure. Enjoy!
Kathy: My Life in Lingerie
My earliest memories of falling in love with lingerie were in a St. Louis automati repair garage in the 1960s. My grandfather owned it and my father worked there with him. (I recognise it sounds bad, but stay with me here.) When I was a child, Mom would stop at the shop and my siblings and I would pile out of the car and say hi to Dad and Grandpa. We loved going there. Grandpa had a pop machine with a mystery hand crank. We’d open the door and help ourselves to sodas, either chocolate or Vess cream. Grandpa gave us pennies for the peanut machine. We’d punch the green buttons on the circa-1940s adding machine, run up the incline on the wheel alignment rack and receive “rides” on the air jack from my dad. Standing on the hose, Dad would flip the air jack switch and up we’d go a couple feet. It was all outstanding fun.
But one of my favored actions was sneaking peeks at the pinup girl calendar behind the desk. The calendars were New Year’s gifts from automati parts suppliers and the Snap-on tool company. I loved looking at the Vargas Girls, sexy watercolor and airbrushed paintings by Alberto Vargas from the 1940s. Lithe and well-endowed women with red-painted nails appeared in scanty lingerie, black stockings, tap pants, see-through nighties, diaphanous peignoir sets and mules. They were so exotic! I couldn’t wait until Grandpa turned the calendar on the primary of the month to see a new ensemble. I dreamed of the day I would be grown-up sufficient to wear these “outfits.”
Fast-forward a few years to my basi underwire bra in high school. I read they were an essential invention to keep breasts from sagging. No one wore them then, and my best friend teased me mercilessly and called me Wire Woman. I likewise encountered colored panties in wild prints and—gasp!—black. I felt sexy in my sheer, shimmery nude bra in the 1970s. It was perfective under my body-hugging tops paired with bell-bottoms and platforms.
In the 1980s I came across teddies and garter belts. What fun! My primary teddies came in dusty rose and teal. I stepped outside the box and purchased a red garter belt. I splurged on a merry widow. I scanned Frederick’s of Hollywood catalogs for fishnet stockings. I purchased corresponding bra and panty sets along with a large total of colored lingerie and black, lacy underthings. My underwear drawer was flling up with naughty delights.
Despite my adventurousness, I could have applied a heap of guidance. I closely always wore the faulty bra size. I was close, but no banana, buying too huge a band size and too little a cup size. In the late 1980s I at long last got a fitting…