Guest Blogger

Confessions of an Underwear Aficionado

November 01, 2006

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Designer, writer, creative personality: Bryan Thompson is also OUTzonetv.com first Guest Blogger. And we couldn't be happier that he agreed join us on this virgin voyage. Bryan is a design wunderkind (that means star) in the automotive field (Nissan, Airstream, etc.) but he designs all kinds of other stuff, too. You should see the new lamp he showed us. Bryan lives with his partner and their "son," a Rat Terrier-Shih Tzu named Loup-Garou in San Diego. Okay, now on with the show...

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Boxers or briefs? How many of you say, "Nothing at all!?"

I hear you. I used to be just like you. In fact I always used to go "commando." When I threw on a pair of jeans, I also threw caution to the wind.

It's a habit that more than once left me hanging in embarrassing ways.

My worst experience with this was when I was working on a concept car for the Detroit Auto Show. Getting it done right and on deadline meant my schedule was very hectic. I had to make nightly visits to a facility that was building our concept car in a top-secret environment.

One night, I was asked to come in to look at the seats. I jumped out of bed, fumbled around my dark bedroom for a pair of jeans and a tee shirt and off I went. I made the 60-mile trip at a frantic pace and when I got there I was immediately escorted to the car to take a look at the seats.

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Comments

Underwear Man, too wrote:

Love the entry. Because I have an underwear fetish, too. In fact, I like to have sex with underwear on.

Now, about your choices. Aussiebum is too colorful. And that pocket thing looks uncomfortable. Why can't someone make just superduper soft cotton briefs?

Mike wrote:

I'm glad things like that don't just happen to me...

Generally, the only time I wear underwear is when I go to the doctor (even if it is "easier access" I always figure it'll generate more questions than I really want to answer).

One day I went to work wearing a brand new pair of jeans that I had ordered online. Standing near the fax machine, I noticed a breeze. Looking down, I figured I had forgotten to zip my pants that morning, which was very embarrasing when you consider that I'm no longer six years old. Now my mother picks out fantastic clothes - judging by my friends, she's the only mother around that does. (This segue has a point.) Unfortunatly, she must think I'm 8 feet tall and obese, or else she figures I wash and dry everything on the hottest possible setting, because she buys me XL everything (I wear a medium everything). She had just gotten me a sweatshirt that I was also wearing that day, and because I hadn't had the opportunity to wash it enough times to shrink it, it was still huge. It turns out that I had not forgotten to zip my pants; the zipper was defective and the pants unzipped themselves every 20 minutes or so. Fortunately, because of the gargantuan sweatshirt I was wearing, I was the only one who knew (although I'm sure people were wondering about the strange look I had on my face all day).

Turns out that I still don't wear underwear unless I risk frightning the doctor. But, I have stopped trying to correct my mother when she buys me clothes.

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