In Search of a Slip

Not of paper. Not a record of a sale. Not for my boat. (I don't have a boat.) I am looking for a full slip, that elusive undergarment worn under dresses, and would prefer that it not cost as much as one of my new bargain dresses. But, apparently, after spending an entire Saturday afternoon looking in vain at at Kohl's, and Macy's (both of which deserve their own "I Love it, I Love it NOT" entries), and Lord & Taylor and JCPenney, that may be my only option. If I can finally get my hands on one.

In every Intimates Department I visited yesterday I walked by thousands of bra styles and racks (no pun intended) in dozens of colors and patterns, but when I got to the little corner where slips were relegated, only a few slips hung. The woefully inadequate selection of camisoles, half slips and full slips, in white, tan and black totaled twenty. I drove to Westfarms for this?...

I may not have had very much growing up, but there were certain things I learned from my mother, certain rules of dressing that were reinforced by example every Sunday before church. A woman wears a slip under skirts and dresses. You should not be able to see through a dress. Moreover, slips prevent cling. Dresses shouldn’t cling to your thighs like pants. They shouldn’t cling to your underwear either. And you have to have a nice coat. If you can’t have one for every season, you have one good “all-weather” overcoat. That is, never throw on a windbreaker (or a fleece jacket) over a dress. Or dress pants. (It seems some of my colleagues never got those lessons growing up.) Which should be hemmed and ironed. (That one either.) And your shoes shouldn’t ruin the effect of the rest of your efforts.

But I digress.

Why can’t I find a slip? Have slips gone the way of modesty? Is it okay to throw on a bra and a thong, slip on your dress, and go? Apparently. I can’t remember where I was recently, but as I write remember seeing a woman, wearing a dress, who clearly had on a thong and no slip. The fabric of her dress was stuck to the tiny triangle of fabric above her ass crack and it looked awful. I don’t even remember if it was a nice dress because it was upstaged by her undergarments—or lack of therein. And that’s not my goal. My goal is to find a slip.

Day Two of my Mission to Find a Slip begins.