I have a favorite pair of underpants. I bought them last year at the Bali/Hanes store at Tanger Outlet on the highway to Sanibel here in Florida. I bought only one pair because that’s all they had of my usual underwear: briefs, I guess they are called. Nice and roomy, particularly if they fit. At size 7, they’re spacious . Comfy.
During this past year, I’d search for them in every load of clothes I washed. Should I put them on top of my neatly folded pile of underpants? Or should I just put them anywhere in the pile? It was promised delight for the very next day vs. coming across them unexpectedly. Hard decision.
I usually smiled when I pulled them out and discovered I had the one, the special underpant/s. Why the plural? It dates back to when the pant legs were separate from the rest of the garment, about 500 years ago. I think.
Silly. I’ll call them, call it, underpant. I have a favorite underpant. There.
I can see you’re not hip. The hip chicks call them panties.