Susie O’Brien: I don’t want my undies to be smarter than I am
NEW-AGE, hi-tech, high-performance undies have me worried. What’s so bad about plain old Y-fronts that have gone all grey from repeated washings, writes Susie O’Brien.
UNDIES, briefs, boxers, bloomers, butt-huggers, tighty-whities, drawers, smalls, shreddies, gruds, thongs, knickers, banana hammocks and budgie-smugglers.
It doesn’t matter what you call them, we all wear underwear. Well, except when we don’t. (Searing social commentary like this is why they pay me the big bucks.)
But it’s time to say goodbye to scungy undies as the hi-tech revolution hits our nether regions. Not since Borat wore a green mankini have underwear designs been so eye-catching or revolutionary.
Lucky for me, University of Technology Sydney academic Alana Clifton-Cunningham has done a research brief (snigger, snigger) on the subject. Clifton-Cunningham reveals in The Conversation that today’s high-performance pants are a far cry from the first loincloths worn by the savvy ancient Egyptians or the codpieces popular in the Middle Ages.
These days you can amp up your underwear experience thanks to Fundawear, which has a vibrating touch that can be activated via a smartphone app.
Couples each have a pair and an app, and can transfer “sensations to each other’s undergarments”.
Yeah, nah. Sounds a bit too much like what happens when you drop your phone down your pants and you can’t get it to stop vibrating – not that it’s ever happened to me.
As the Uni Undies lady – as Clifton-Cunningham is no doubt known – explains, you can also buy reusable period underwear which is a bit like a nappy, but more fashionable. Also gaining in popularity are “flatulence-filtering” Shreddies, which use carbon-absorbing cloth technology. The Shreddies website says the product is made from “the same activated carbon material used in chemical warfare suits”. Its users can thus “fart with confidence” and “stop blaming it on the dog”.
One thing is for sure. It’s just about impossible to buy just plain undies these days.
Even my eight-year-old has caught the designer undies bug. His pants must be boxers, not briefs. Cotton, not nylon. And no superheroes, please, Mum. And even underwear for tough tradies is now made from a “coolmax and elastane jersey knit” with a “sweat absorbent waistband, moisture-wicking fabric to keep you dry and cool with printed panelling to reduce chaffing”.
There’s also the Under Armour Boxerjock, which has a four-way stretch fabric, a moisture transport system and antimicrobial technology which prevents the growth of odour-causing microbes. How do I know if I need any of these if I don’t actually know what they are?
Women’s underwear is getting even weirder, with body parts such as “butt lifters” built in, not to mention tummy controllers and thigh shapers. I’ve recently tried some high-performance, hi-tech undies from a brand called Move.
I met the co-founder at a kids’ footy match and we got talking. I should have kept my trap shut. A few weeks later I was road-testing a pair of $25 underpants with a wraparound airflow mesh for moisture management made from fabric that was quick-drying, breathable, had a two-way stretch, were ultra-chlorine resistant and had bonded seams.
They were comfy and very snug but I wasn’t sure I was sporty enough to need turbocharged underwear to maximise my performance as an urban athlete. (The only exercise I do is run out of money, skip the gym and jump to conclusions.)
All that new-age tech made me old-age nervous. I don’t want my undies to be smarter than I am.
What’s so bad about plain old Y-fronts that have gone all grey from repeated washings? Bikini briefs with elastic that’s seen better days? Granny undies? Seven days in Rio?
That’s why I’m not a huge fan of the Undies Revolution. I am way more interested in what happens when the undies come off …