Undies In A Bunch

Dear Hanes “Her Way” People:

     I am taking the time to write this quick little note due to the fact that I am extremely annoyed with all of you, right down to your delivery men! I recently purchased a package of women’s ‘briefs’ which we all know is code for “Granny Panties”. But this is not why I am writing you. Sure, I am annoyed about this too, but neither my age nor my size is in any way your fault. So not to worry; I will not be contacting my lawyer based on any of the afore mentioned reasons, as there is sadly little you can do about any of it.
     No, what I am more than a wee-bit irked about is that many of the seams on the undies in this six-pack o’panties have begun to unravel faster than your Aunt Mildred’s sweater after a moth invasion of biblical proportions. I know the label says that these undergarments are made in Thailand. Frankly I suspect that they are actually manufactured somewhere deep in the Canadian wilderness, because it appears that you have hired beavers, and then randomly threaded their teeth and set them to work on all of the seams in hopes of somehow saving even more money than you could have with the average third-world worker, while simultaneously attempting to create a tidy looking “double-stitch”.
     Here’s why I suspect this; it is true that I am “short” for my weight. But to put it bluntly; I have an extremely flat back of my front. An affliction I have had since birth. Yes, I’ll just say it; I am heiny-impaired. I don’t know why Jerry Lewis or someone has never created a telethon for this disorder but they should have! (I’m sorry, I digress) but the point is that I do not have enough “junk in the trunk” to split a seam if it were sewn by a ‘special education’ Home-Economics class. Though it pains me to have to discuss my anatomy (or lack-there-of) with you, I am sure you can see why it was necessary.
      I believe you may be thinking; who cares!!! She bought them at Wal-Mart. It’s not like she expects Victoria’s Secret quality (snort, snicker). She is probably used to most of the items she purchases there falling apart faster than a hasty Vegas marriage.
      Perhaps you have even sent all of your “seconds” out to all of the Wal-Marts, while rolling around on your thick, plush pile carpeting in your Park Avenue offices and laughing until your personal-assistants have to bring you silk handkerchiefs with which to mop your eyes.
    But guess what Hanes ‘Her Way’ People; it does matter! I may be short on funds, and I may need to shop in a store that is known worldwide for the highest number of people with the lowest number of teeth per-capita, and I may have the flattest butt ever to parade around in your product, but I deserve some good strong seams! I deserve to be able to wash my underwear more than once without them looking as though they have been trampled in a stampede.
    In conclusion, I urge you to fire the beavers immediately and apologize profusely to your ex-workers in Thailand. Even better, bring your panties on home! See if you can’t wring some quality out of the lowliest of American workers….who knows they may surprise you, regardless of the number of teeth per-capita!

Tonya Willman ©2010