THE BROEKIE BRIGADE - 31/ 7/ 2005 <--Prev : Next-->
THE BROEKIE BRIGADE
It only becomes obvious when the little girls come home for the
summer holidays.....
The rest of the year I am secure in the belief that a) There is
something wrong with my mirror and b) that my clothes shrink in the
wash AND C) that we have strong moral values in our home !!
But when the Little Girls come home - the TRUTH EMERGES !!
It is the festooning of the bathroom that really gets to me. Our
staunch Catholic family traditions are being horribly eroded by our
underwear.
I can cope with the shoes sizes, we are all identical - a perfect
English Size 4. I can cope with the bra sizes, we are all virtually
identical apart from a few gravity problems and under-wiring needed
in the matriarch, but the broekies in the bathroom make me want to
rush off to confession - literally....
Now most Zimbabwean mothers from the olden days were known to give
broekie washing lessons to their offspring and at age three, my
Little Girls were to be found perched on the wee little stool that
grandpa made, leaning over the basin carefully washing their broekies
every evening before bath-time.
These days I am pretty sure the little darlings toss theirs into the
washing machine and tumble dryer when they are away from Mother's
eagle eye, but they dutifully wash them at home and hence the
festoonation of the bathroom which makes father duck and cluck and
makes me cringe.
The reason being those awful things called "thongs" !!
Now in my day - a broekie was a broekie.
Good quality cotton was imperative, anything else was unhygienic, and
of course , they always had to keep the kidneys warm to ward off the
common cold !!
Now, I ask you, what good does a thong do medically, physically, and
mentally ?
Mother would always insist that our underwear was in pristine
condition "just in case we got knocked down by a car". Any errant
piece of lace (modest in size and of course beige or white ONLY ) was
immediately and carefully hand stitched.
And trust me those bloomers lasted an awful long time so we probably
only had a few pairs.
Nowadays thanks to Victoria's secret, the Little Girls' broekie
drawers are overflowing, mind you they are so minuscular (the
broekies I mean) you could probably get a hundred of them into the
family chest of drawers that used to take half a dozen. !!
In my day there was etiquette in a pair of knickers - our revered
headmistress (we were at an all girls' school) would insist on
impromptu broekie inspection, and woe betide anyone who was wearing
anything but the regulation wooly brown pantaloon that took a full
yard of fabric to make. Anyone found in something a little more
risqué was branded as a strumpet and outcast for days on end !!
Now being of the old school, I have always been of the beige, cotton,
full-cut broekie set......
But my strumpet daughters wear ( blush) all manner of unladylike
undergarments. All induced by the High Priestess of the Pert Bottom -
Kylie Mynogue no doubt !!
Unmentionables like tangas, g strings, thongs in all sorts of garish
colours like red and lime and even (shudder) black !! Festooned with
slogans and even shriek (lace that is not beige )!!
What is the world coming too I shudder to think.......