I’ve been putting this off for ages. My underwear drawer has spiraled into chaos—it’s nearly embarrassing, and I feel a bit ashamed about 80% of what’s hiding in there. But today was the day. It was time to tackle the mess once and for all. I steeled myself and stepped into my closet; a wave of dread washed over me. Was I truly prepared for this?
In an attempt to distract myself, I busied my hands with less daunting tasks: neatly arranging jeans, folding shirts, and stashing away purses I’ll likely never use again on the top shelf. I even created a Goodwill pile filled with items I’ve ignored for three years but swore I’d wear again someday. That’s when it hit me—Am I a hoarder?! But no matter; I had more pressing matters to address.
The moment finally came, and I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. Hands trembling, I pulled open the drawer and was hit by a nauseating mix of lavender, gardenia, and lime from the potpourri bags. The scent threatened to deter me, but I reminded myself of my mission.
I held my breath, plunged my arms into the tangled mess of undergarments, and dumped everything onto the floor with a triumphant flourish. Take that, granny panties! Goodbye, nursing bra! I’m in charge here! With the fervor of Gandalf facing off against the Balrog, I declared, “You shall not pass!”
Here’s what I found in the chaos:
- 5 pairs of my partner’s old boxers
- 3 pairs of sleep shorts
- 7 pairs of post-pregnancy underwear, three with holes or loose strings
- 9 polyester thongs from pre-baby days (you know, because of hemorrhoids)
- 7 bras, four of which had seen better days over seven years ago
- 1 nursing bra (my youngest is five, and we’re done with that chapter)
- 1 lavender sachet
- 1 gardenia sachet
- 2 lily of the valley potpourri bags from a decade ago that still smell (What’s in those?)
- 1 baggie containing five baby teeth the tooth fairy allegedly took
- 3 notes my 7-year-old wrote to the garden fairies that mysteriously vanished
- A collection of dog hair
- A dead moth
- Miscellaneous receipts from 2010
- Various discarded price tags
- 1 pair of underwear belonging to an unidentified person
Before I second-guessed myself, I swiftly gathered the obvious items that had to go. Farewell, men’s boxers! Adios, raggedy bras! So long, chafing thongs! And goodbye, granny panties! You served me well, but it was time to part ways. BOOM! Progress was being made, and I felt invigorated.
With the clutter cleared, it was time to organize. I grabbed an old shoebox that once held my Crocs (don’t judge) and carefully ripped the top off. Inside, I stashed away three special occasion bras, one pair of granny panties (just in case), two thongs (also just in case), the sachets, the baby teeth, and the fairy notes. The rest of the drawer was now a vast open space—a refreshing sight. I dusted off the remnants like a pro, and aside from the moth causing a brief panic, I emerged unscathed and empowered.
My four remaining bras and three pairs of lady boxers now basked in their tidy new home. It felt as if a miraculous team from a home makeover show had revamped my space while I was away. After my laborious journey, it was time for a well-deserved shower; the sweat from my earlier efforts had left me smelling a bit like chicken noodle soup and onion rings.
Reflecting on the experience, I feel ready to share some wisdom with my fellow underwear hoarders out there. Ladies, fear not! Those holey panties? Bury them in a time capsule. Worn-out bras with sad elastic? Dispose of them immediately. Men’s boxers? You should be embarrassed—dispose of those alongside the knickers! You can do this!
Cleaning out your underwear drawer is akin to holding a funeral for a goldfish. It’s not fun, a little sad (but not really), and ultimately symbolizes liberation. Your body deserves better than moth-eaten intimates. Your chest should be enveloped in comfortable bras that don’t slip off your shoulders every five minutes. Take pride in your undergarments and reclaim your power. Your privates will thank you, and so will you.
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Summary
In this light-hearted reflection, Samantha Lane embarks on a long-overdue mission to declutter her chaotic underwear drawer as she approaches 40. Faced with the overwhelming mess, she confronts her procrastination and discovers a mix of forgotten items. With a spirit of empowerment, she clears out the unnecessary, organizes what’s left, and encourages fellow women to take pride in their undergarments.