A history of knickers so brief it should be called a thong

So I was wondering: why do we call them a pair of knickers? A pair when it's only one item? A quick google and I have the answer - not from Wiki but from more reliable double-checked and compared sources I should add.

It wasn't until the end of the eighteenth century that women began to wear a form of drawers adapted from those worn by men, with legs gathered below the knee and lacing at the back around the waist. Prior to that women didn't wear anything on their nether regions. 

Now the relevant bit of this is that these weren't so much crotchless panties as ... well, more like individual leggings. The crotch seam was open from front to back, of necessity I assume, as who'd want to struggle with laces when you had a pressing need to wee? A bit later they began to be called knickers from the knickerbocker trousers which were becoming fashionable. And this is where I am doing my 'Elementary, dear Watson' bit: I guess they were called a pair because to all intent and purposes they were in two pieces.

'Closed' drawers with a side-waist opening didn't appear until the end of the nineteenth century but now knickers were becoming prettier and more colourful - and made of silk - if you could afford them. And so it has continued over the years with more and more time and money being spent on designing and marketing tiny triangles of material.

And there you have it. Everything you need to know about knickers in one short blog post. Next time DIY brain surgery for beginners.

Knickers to you

So, as you may have gathered, I've been having a cull of my knickers. I have been ruthless and thrown lots away including baggy ones, high in my bottom ones and uncomfortable ones (okay, yes, I've put on weight, but, to be honest, they were always a fairly ambitious purchase).

I've put them in the bin and that seems a horrid waste but I can't believe anyone wants to wear anyone else's knickers, even if barely worn and washed and spotlessly clean.

I've also got rid of (as in bagged for the charity shop) those pink shorts I must have bought while under the influence of the spirit of insanity, a belt that came with something but has never been worn, and numerous t-shirts that looked nice in the shop but not on me, as well as the green shorts without a button (yes, i could have sewn on a button but that was never going to happen) that went in the bin.

On a different but connected note, this morning I did one of those endless time-wasting quizzes on Facebook, this time, 'What punctuation mark are you?' Well, I had to, didn't I?

It turns out I'm a comma. That seems quite appropriate; I am fond of commas, possibly too fond sometimes. I have a tendency to strew commas about but it's because I read my writing as I'm writing it and I like to breathe.