Lingerie and Sexuality

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This is a post I’ve been thinking about for a while. Whether intended or not, I’d put it together in my head long before it ever reached any form of readable medium. So here it goes: lingerie and sexuality. I find that in our culture, buying lingerie is strongly linked to being sexual. It’s encouraged on Valentine’s Day, and buying lingerie for your significant other is meant to show intimacy in a relationship. This isn’t why I love lingerie, and I think it confuses a lot of people when they see my vast collection.

“But you’re single,” they say, “who are you going to wear it for?”

And the answer, dear reader, is myself. I love lingerie. I love the delicate lace and bold colors. I find beauty in the satin, buttons, bows, and frills. I love the way it makes me feel, the way it looks, and how I can indulge every little aspect of my personality and fashion sense with a single, inconspicuous garment.

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None of my friends really understood why there were always 600 bras (not really- well, not yet) when they walked into my room, or why I owned enough panties to forge a durable tent out of. My mother and sister were the same way; and I can’t count how many times I heard the phrase “Another bra?!” whenever a package came in the mail.

Lingerie means to me what it doesn’t for a lot of people. With lingerie, I can be as bold as I want. I could be wearing the dullest, frumpiest outfit, but underneath I’ve got on a Victorian-style lace and silk longline adorned with decorative pearls and buttons, and nobody is of the wiser. I can wear frills, polka dots, a funky pattern or delicate lace, and indulge every part of my wildest feminine fantasies, all beneath my clothing. I’ll walk around with a smile on my face because on top I’ve got a pin-striped linen blouse tucked into jeans, but underneath I’m rocking a black pin-up style corset. I can be as wild as I want under my clothes because I’m the only one who can see it- and that makes me feel great.

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Even in the times when I wasn’t single, my friends would see my legions of lace and wink at me and go “I know who that’s for!”

And the answer has always been the same- it’s for me. It’s mine, my beloved little secret. Some collect coins, others watch birds, and my hobby is lingerie.Β  As a matter of fact, I don’t think I would like my significant other buying me lingerie. Doing so would defeat the purpose of why I wear it, and I can’t say I’d appreciate it if someone put something in front of me that they chose out and asked me to wear it. Of course, that’s just me- obviously this works out for a great number of people, and good for them.

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I don’t see lingerie as sexual. It certainly can be, but there isn’t anything obscene or suggestive about lingerie in itself. I started this blog because I wanted to share what I loved. I aim to have that come through in what I write and the photos I take, and look forward to getting creative with things in the future. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this topic, and have a fantastic week.

Until next time,

-AFILAL

13 thoughts on “Lingerie and Sexuality

  1. As a mother who has said “another bra” I now understand why “another bra”. You’ve shown me a totally different perspective which has totally opened my mind! I’m going to look at lingerie in a totally different way from now on. For that I thank you!

  2. Also, I would like to add as a response to the “single statement” that even if you would think lingerie as sexual, what does it matter if you are single or not. Cause first of all, I really NEEDED my lingerie when I was single to feel confident and sexy and also you never know when someone is going to see those undies. A bit off topic but I just hate it when people question someone’s need for something – I don’t need chocolate but I still eat and enjoy it.

  3. I can relate to this, has a lingerie blogger i talk about bras all day, look at bra fashion, write about it. I often forget that it is sexual… people on my facebook and twitter must think i am so weird the way i go on and on.

    Great post, i will share it πŸ˜€

  4. Hi, so I’m really young, (as in not even 14) but I already wear a thirteen. I was wondering if you could do a blog post about brands and bras that are good for a busty teen, like a 32E busty teen. My mom isn’t very comfortable with fancy or exciting bras, and I want to know if it’s safe to wear cute little printed bras to school or unlined bras. It would be nice just to have a beginners guide and what’s too much for someone as young as I am. Is there creating bras that are too much? How can you ask your mom for a pretty bra but nothing too crazy? Where are good places to be fitted in the U.S? Are there any ways to see if a certain bra will fit if you can’t try it on? Please help!

  5. Hey,

    I just found your blog today and love this post πŸ™‚ I run Esty Lingerie which includes blogging and selling my own lingerie designs. When people ask me what I do I tend to say I “sew underwear” or “write about knickers”, there seems to be so much of a stigma attached to the word ‘lingerie’ that I often find myself avoiding using it without thinking about it, especially with strangers.

    I’ve bought lingerie for my sister, my mum, a few friends. I’ve taken my sister on a knicker-making workshop one birthday too. There’s nothing sexual about all this!

    1. ME TOO! I hate using the word lingerie around people because they don’t quite grasp that I don’t shoot low-budget porn in my room.
      In time I hope people will realize lingerie does not equal sex, but until then, I’m going to have to get used to being the girl with the weird pastime.
      PS I love your blog/designs, cheers x

  6. Everything you said in this post is spot on with how I’ve always felt about lingerie! I feel so happy to have stumbled upon your blog. I wear lingerie for myself: I feel a little glow when I think about the matching red set that I have on underneath my unassuming black t-shirt and jeans, and even on the days when I have to wear a plain nude bra (e.g. when I’m going to wear a white top that requires it), I get a little rush of joy when I open my underwear drawer and see my lingerie arranged neatly in their corner of privilege. Also, I have always felt uncomfortable with the idea of my significant other buying lingerie for me; apart from the fact that I’m super picky about styles, I knew that the lingerie experience would cease to be “mine”, and instead become something that was given to me for a sexual nature. So I have always explicitly asked people not to buy lingerie for me.

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