I’d like to begin with a confession. I have a serious addiction to overpriced workout clothes. This addiction fuels not only most of my decisions regarding my pocketbook, but also my workout habits. Consider it a means of justification. You can’t buy it if you don’t use it, right?
So I find myself in yoga quite often, and wearing this active uniform even when I’m not. As you can imagine, this equates to a lot of laundry. Providing the utmost care for my belongings, they find themselves on the delicate cycle in wash—along with my yoga towel and my unmentionables.
This brings me to my story. Running late to a Friday morning yoga practice, I quickly threw on clothes right out of the dryer, grabbed my yoga towel and ran out the door. Arriving to class as everyone was already seated and ready to begin, I unrolled my mat on the floor. In a far too dramatic fashion, I whipped out my towel like a Spanish matador and draped it over my mat. To my horror, as I shook the towel, a hot pink Hanky Panky thong was set free and sent flying in to the air. I gasped in fear and scrambled to grab them before anyone noticed, but the damage had been done.
“It could have been worse, at least they’re Hanky Panky undies…” the gal whose mat my undergarments flew over whispered to me as she tucked them under the top corner of mine. I blushed, as bright pink as the lacy panties themselves, and we giggled through our first vinyasa. TGIF, I suppose?!
As if I needed another reason to fill my drawers with Hanky Panky thongs. Not only are they super comfortable, but should they be exposed as mine were, you’ll have nothing to sweat. Other than your yoga practice, of course.
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