So I just went to the bathroom. (Sorry to start off a post with that. I guess it’s a poor attemt to be like Her Dooceness.) But I looked at my underwear and it instantly made me smile. I like the patchwork pinky-red flower and the boycut style.

I used to be ashamed of girly underwear. My drawer looked like a TV with bad reception: black, white or gray. All cotton. No color. No designs. One time I got seamless underwear and that’s about as exciting as it got.

It was like this until the summer before I went to college. My cousin Megan, who is 8 months younger than me and has always loved fun underwear, went to American Eagle on our lunch break. Their underwear was on clearance. She was on a mission to liven up my drawer.

I can still remember how she shook the plastic bag and spilled the prized booty onto my lap. Stripes, flowers, see-through pink mesh — you name it, it was there.

And now, three years later, I love fun underwear. I can’t believe I went so long with three drab shades. The colors, patterns, and designs bring me joy — ya know, every couple days or so.