Sure, I seem stylish, but at heart I’m a practical man: food is to power the engine, alcohol is to dull the dull stuff, and underwear is to go under what you wear.
That is until recently.
Several weeks ago I found myself stranded away from home, without so much as two pairs of undies to rub together. I had the one underpant under my pants, but no other.
In addition to being a practical man, I would also like to believe I am a man of good personal hygiene.
Not for me is the clichéd bloke approach, which suggests we can stretch out one pair over four days. Nope. I needed more undies. How difficult could it be?
In my mind, it was simply a matter of strolling into the nearest clothing store – or even supermarket – and selecting a handy three or four pack of plain, coloured, yet functional smalls.
The trouble was, I happened to be in a town that embraced hipsters, snowboarders and financially secure nature freaks.
There were no budget briefs to be found. If you were going to wear any at all, they would have to be haute couture.
Finding myself between commando and a cold place, I was forced to purchase a ridiculously expensive piece of cloth and elastic nobody would ever see me wear.
Fighting generations of instinctive frugality, I handed over a $50 note – expecting perhaps only metal back in return. As the salesgirl took the money, there was a momentary refusal to let go and complete the purchase.
For a second we eyeballed each other in a stand off over Sir Ãpirana Ngata.
The next few hours were a revelation. For some reason, I felt that because I had spentso much on these underpants, I must start wearing them straight away.
My twisted, Scrooge-like logic told me this was the way to maximise value.
I didn’t even wait to get back to the hotel.
I did the quick change in the public toilet, which, as some of you know, is never a quick change because the rooms are ill-designed for putting anything anywhere and the result is a sort of jean-juggling contortionist act.
It was worth it. As I strode out into the sunlight, my $45.99 worth of merino under-garment took me to a new place.
I was floating. I smiled inanely at people I did not know. Every now and then there was a knowing look from a fellow member of the merino club.We knew.
My life has not been the same. The chore of getting dressed is now a pleasure.
I scarily believe I now have favourite underwear!
I am saddened on the days that these garments are rotated off duty. I am physically repelled by the thought of what I used to allow under my garments.
Like Adam having tasted the apple, I have new knowledge. And, like a preacher, I want others to know.
Spend the money. Your loins deserve it.
