steve's panties.

It's been recently, but sometime in the past few years, I figured out that I was a girl. I got my ears pierced at seventeen, I started carrying a pocketbook in college, I began making attempts at keeping my nails looking neat, I started accessorizing with a vengeance, I got my ears pierced a second time a few weeks back. Of course, my pocketbooks tend to be big enough to fit a whole mess of stuff, I never spend any money on keeping my nails neat, and I buy my accessories second-hand. I am a girl, but I am a sensible girl.

At some point, I decided that I was a grown-up girl, and that I made enough money to buy panties that did not come in three or six packs at Wal-Mart. I made so much money that I could afford to buy panties at outlet stores. Naturally, they would still be cotton and comfortable, and they would get nice and soft and faded in the wash, but they wouldn't be Equate or Sam's Choice or whatever.

Just in case there was any doubt at this point, yes, this story is pretty much all about female undergarments. I am not only mentioning the unmentionables, I'm talking about them at length.
I was at one of those stores that sells things name-brand and highly reduced because they're irregular or one season out of fashion or three seasons ahead of their time. TJ Maxx, Marshall's, Ross, they're all the same. I was looking through the panty selection, picking out things I liked. I noticed that several pair that I selected were the same brand, that brand being called "Steve." I thought that was pretty awesome and imaginative, calling a female undergarment company by a man's name. I giggled, because I was going to be wearing Steve's panties. I giggled again just now when I typed that. I told ya that I was a girl.

I bought a couple of pair of Steve's panties and took them home. I decided to try on my new panties, originally Steve's. I was cutting off the tag of one the pairs when I happened to look a little closer at the brand name. It had a period in it. These were not Steve's panties at all, they were St. Eve's. I don't even know who that is. Granted, I didn't know who Steve was either, but I knew a couple of Steves and a Stephen or two.

It was a terrible disappointment. And while I've since found that I really like St. Eve's panties for all the reasons that a sensible girl likes a pastel blue pair of cotton hipsters, I really kinda wish that they were Steve's panties.