I wear lingerie for myself. Nobody else, though others may benefit, at least for a few minutes. I wear lingerie for myself because it emphasizes my strength. My femininity and my courage. I wear lingerie because it helps me feel and project the self-confidence that took me years to actualize.
I am not skinny.
I am not a model.
I am an average woman who has a passion for beautiful underpinnings only she knows is there – most of the time. And I am fucking fine with that.
Call me Liz.
I’ve always had a bit of a fascination with sex, sexuality, sensuality and nudity. Perhaps a byproduct of the Catholic guilt I grew up with, it turned into curiosity rather than disgust.
A turning point for me and the idea of lingerie and sensuality, oddly enough, came from ancient Rome and my hippie, free-spirited, bra-less Latin teacher. One day – I believe in 9th grade (she was my teacher for 3 years) – she told the class about how prostitutes in Rome would have dyed in red ink of their sandals ‘follow me’ so their footprints would lead men directly to the brothels.
It was that same year when we went on a school trip to Italy I purchased my first set of lingerie, a grey Instimissi set set with stars, which I still have, and which fits, at the moment, rather poorly. I was somewhat embarrassed at the store and I don’t think I tried anything on, just grabbed what size I thought would work, paid and left.
I never really looked back from there, continuing to buy lingerie as I traveled or had the spare money. Oftentimes ill-fitting, I remember a pink embroidered front-closure racerback I got in Prague which gave me awful four-boob.
I started working at Victoria’s Secret in high school, and I joke I saw more naked women in the first week working at the store than I ever wanted to in my life. I tend to exaggerate. About 40% of my paycheck probably went back into the store, which I didn’t begrudge, though at this point in life I’ve gotten rid of the majority of my purchases from there, between wear, weight gain and stylistic growing-up I have no need for those purchases anymore.
It wasn’t until my mid-twenties I was introduced to the world of luxury, adult, feminine lingerie. And it made me feel in charge of my body and my confidence in a way I rarely did before. From Zinke and Else to Masion Close and Eberjey, I spent more on lingerie in a year than I did on everyday clothes, and I never doubted the money spent.
That is the goal I set forth, ladies. I want to help you find what I found, through lingerie, body confidence, mindfulness and presentation. A modern woman’s guide to confidence in the digital era.