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Humor writer, Hallie Bandy, is the mother of four children and lives on a farmette in rural Kentucky--both of which provide more than enough fodder for her writing.  She is a regularShareWIK.com columnist.

I don’t shop at WalMart.  I can give you a host of reasons, but it probably all boils down to the fact that I don’t like buying my underwear and groceries at the same place.

Trouble is, it’s so darn convenient to pick up that six-pack of cotton briefs.  The packaging certainly makes you think that the product meets the minimum fashion and comfort requirements.  And, it’s right there.   Ready to throw in the cart, along with the other necessities of life, like school supplies and chocolate.

Shopping for good underwear requires a more focused expedition.  And, let’s face it: when life gets busy, underwear shopping inevitably ends up on the bottom of the to-do list. While the wrong shoes can create a fashion nightmare — or worse yet, shin splints or ingrown toenails — uncomfortable underwear can be tolerated if you manage to stay in the same position for an extended length of time.  And, while you’ll likely get a sideways glance if you wear the wrong dress to an uppity party, no one checks to see if you have the latest in underwear fashion. 

But I’ve found out:  that’s what friends are for.

Awhile back, a friend spent a few days at a mutual friend’s house.  Apparently, the hostess’s well-intentioned offer to do some laundry revealed a shocking secret:  our friend had succumbed to impulse buying at her local Mart.  Yes, she owned — and obviously wore — granny briefs. 

The revelation was followed by incessant teasing and giggling, and then a guided tour of the Bloomingdale’s foundations department, where some very fine DKNY panties were purchased — as a gift. 

Because, friends don’t let friends wear granny pants.

Perhaps I should have taken heed to the implied warning, and packed a little more carefully when I went to visit the same friend.  While I can honestly say I didn’t have any granny pants, I have to admit, it had been awhile since I’d taken the time to shop.  Inevitably, the kind offer to do some laundry revealed a few tattered undergarments, and, not long after, I found myself browsing the lingerie department with my friend.  As it happened, my daughter was along, which just compounded the embarrassment. 

At their insistence, and against all my preconceived ideas, I agreed to try a new-to-me style of underwear.  I honestly couldn’t understand how the store could charge what that tiny piece of fabric cost, but my daughter and friend both insisted nothing is more comfortable. 

I brought home the new skivvies and, throwing every tightly wound notion of propriety out the window, tried them on.  I had no idea how comfortable thongs actually are.  Really.

How do you adequately thank a friend for buying you a thong?  This was not on my mother’s list of “Nice Things to Do for a Friend.”   Or maybe it was, and she just didn’t let me in on the secret.

Along life’s journey, we get so busy, we resort to the easiest solutions — a six-pack of underwear on our way from the produce aisle to frozen foods.  A good friend will remind us: comfort matters, and taking care of personal details is a good thing.

Last week, my daughter went shopping for a friend of hers who is headed off to college.  She called me from the mall.  “I bought her a really cute thong,” she told me, giggling. 

She knows how to be a friend.

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