Gray Underpants

In the last week, I heard three quotes worth thinking about.  First, a paraphrase of Maya Angelou saying that when someone tells you who they are, believe them the first time.  Then, Oprah stating that (a) you are responsible for the energy you bring to a relationship - including the relationship you have with yourself -  and (b) you are responsible for the energy you allow into that relationship.  And third, embarrassingly, one from Carrie Bradshaw in a 'Sex in the City' episode:  you are responsible for accessorizing your life.  No matter what you are given, what you have, you are the one who accessorizes it.

Which brings me to the gray underpants.  The other day, I'm rummaging through my underwear drawer and find these gray underpants.  In my defense, they are Victoria Secret and they are bikini cut.  However, they are gray.  Not silver, not a sexy snakeskin pattern like my gray bra, no cute stripes and no pink lace trim.  They are gray.  They are grim.  What was I thinking?  They are not cute.  They are not stylish.  They are not necessary in my life.  But there they are (or were - I threw them out).

Discovering that I own gray underpants gave me pause.  Gray underpants tell you who you are, or maybe who you think you have become.  It's not about size, though lord knows I have climbed the size scale at the VS panty bin.  It's about self-perception and energy and accessorizing.  It's about poetry and the soundtrack of your life; it's about goddesses and crones and wild women.  None of whom would own gray underpants.  Even if they were comfortable.

There are no accidents.  The three quotes were random, but not accidental.  I never watch 'Sex in the City' reruns.  Ever.  But that day, I did.

Just sayin'.  Don't tell anyone you are a gray underpants girl.  Don't allow gray underpants  energy in your cute, sexy panty drawer.   And don't ever accessorize your life with gray underpants.  Ever.