Lifestyle

Be more Richard Madeley and go commando


One thing I do have in common with Richard Madeley is that I no longer wear underwear (Picture: ITV)

I may not be male, perma-tanned or a veteran of daytime TV, but one thing I do have in common with Richard Madeley is that I no longer wear underwear.

I, too, have discovered the benefits of floating free and allowing one’s delicate parts to nestle without the added constriction of knickers, panties or thong.

My commando days have gradually increased as I’ve got older from every now and again to practically every day.

I’m not sure if this is due to a ‘devil may care’ attitude or just the freedom I feel without the added layer, but somewhere along the line I have let my need for knickers go.

It’s now a standing joke with my partner that if I whisper in his ear that I am wearing panties, he gets excited as opposed to the other way around.

Not wearing knickers is brilliant. It takes away one less thing to think about and it certainly reduces the washing pile.

For me, keeping my nether regions clean is an act of religion. Without underwear I can wear what I want. There are no knicker lines or tight elastic digging into my thighs.

I can just be me and it may actually be healthier. After all, our vaginas are their own perfectly balanced micro-environment. With a good old sluice every day and air circulating, I can’t see a reason to wear panties anymore.

The only time I consider them a necessity is if I’m wearing a skirt on an exceptionally windy day (nature’s up-skirting, if you will) or of course, if my gynaecological cycle prevents me and I need something to – well, keep everything in place.

So, is there a difference in me choosing to ‘go commando’ as opposed to Mr Madeley?

The female equivalent is ‘free-buffing’ which only makes me think of polishing a table as opposed to being panty-less and even that phrase has its own air of ‘frissant’.

Well, for a start the phrase itself is very male. Google the word and you’re likely to end up looking at a group of Royal Marine Commandos, a military regiment that only accepted women for training last year.

The female equivalent is ‘free-buffing’ which only makes me think of polishing a table as opposed to being panty-less and even that phrase has its own air of ‘frissant’.

If a man knew I wasn’t wearing knickers, it may be read as a sexual invitation, but for a man? Well it’s kind of – brave and (dare I say it) ballsy?

I guess it’s par for the course that there are double standards going on here. For men, not wearing underwear is an act of bravado. For women, the association is with sluttery.

By not covering up our modesty we must be ‘up for it’ and ready to whip off our clothing at any given point to have sex.

I admire Richard for announcing his decision to fly free on national television, but I also felt that the reaction to his news was over the top. There is no law that says we have to wear underwear. He’s not running around the streets with his dangly bits on show.

So why are people so taken aback at his personal choice? In many ways, I see the logic of undies for men: genitals must get in the way sometimes and holding them to task in a cotton sack does seem logical.

I can appreciate that not wearing anything underneath trousers must feel not only liberating, but also very natural. Perhaps if men had been forced to wear skirts, it might be different.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a knicker hater. I love lingerie and underwear and I still wear them on occasion. But my use is now so infrequent that even finding a pair to wear these days is tricky.

When I mention this to female friends their reactions have ranged from disgusted: ‘How could you – eeurrggh’ to: ‘Wow – I hadn’t even thought of doing that’ and everything in-between.

As a woman, there are a lot of practical reasons to wear knickers but wearing them just becomes a habit that we can easily break ourselves out of.

So back to Mr Madeley, my distant commando comrade in arms. Have you single-handedly liberated the men of Britain? Unlikely. But with the future so uncertain, perhaps it really is time to throw caution (and panties) to the wind.

Let it all hang out inside your clothing. I mean, who is going to know? It can be our little secret.

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