Knickers Again (But of the Cycling Variety …)

white clothes line trousers past
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Now I fear I must discuss, or at least give my view on the slightly taboo and decidedly undignified subject of knickers.

Of all the advice that I was given prior to my cycling trip, and there was a lot, the common denominator from everyone was to invest in a good sturdy pair of cycling shorts.  To this day, I’m not entirely sure if mine were shorts or knickers. Whichever they were, they did the job well.  But Mon Dieu, what an unsightly piece of clothing.

Lycra’d within an inch of their life so that they tightly suck in the wobbly bits like a vacuum packed chicken, and let other parts spill out over the top and underneath; the end result is one ends up looking like a rather badly stuffed Christmas stocking; all lumps and bumps but the only surprise with this stocking is whether one is able to take them off without the huge effort making one either puce in the face, or accidentally breaking wind.

As for the padding within, it is simply a large piece of foam which sits like a small yoga roll-mat between ones legs.  However, the result? unattractive, however not a bruised botty in sight.

But, there is one piece of advice that I was NOT given, and that was to wear them from day one of said cycling adventure. If it is left until day three, you will discover that you can’t sit down without wincing, howling and yelping. Sadly this is really rather a case of locking the stable door once the horse has well and truly bolted and frankly is in another county. This was sadly what I did.

And, whilst trying to be delicate here, it’s not just ones ‘back bottom’ that becomes bruised, it’s the ‘front bottom’ area and for want of a better word, ones ‘fou fou’. This entire region becomes so delicate, that should you be travelling on a romantic holiday with your darling loved one, you can wave goodbye to any woo hoo for your fou fou for at least a week. Or if you do, he’ll find that he got more than he bargained for, with more wincing, howling, yelping and yowling than a night in a brothel with Madame Whiplash and her whippy-stick.

I think that just about covers it.

Katie xx

Any experience of cycling knickers? No? Lucky you … 😳

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