A look at lingerie

I don't even know whether this is my fourth blog or fifth, but I just can't seem to stay away from rambling somewhere now can I ?

There is a tiny place in my home that I call my 'spot'. It's usually on the very end of the right side of my couch,where I do most of my thinking, eating, drinking and other sinful activities. As I sit in the very same spot as I type this and as I soon enter into my 31st year on this wonderful and murky planet, I got thinking about something that has been on my mind for some time now.

Every time I go to a clothing store and I pass the lingerie section, I see a few men standing around with complete bewilderment. And I wonder every time about the identical looks on all their faces. A mix of bewilderment and amazement.

Not being too much of a voyeur, I desist from indulging in the urge to unravel the mystery of the men in the lingerie section. But in very recent times, owing to my unemployment and boredom, I have played detective. 

The results themselves of the experiment were not exciting, but the journey has been enlightening. 

Much like an innocent and teenaged Shahid Kapoor buying a negligee for his first love in 'aankhon mein' I found one or two fellows looking jittery and overwhelmed by the array of options. But unlike Shahid Kapoor, I didn't see any purchases being made,only a hasty retreat as the well meaning saleswoman approached.

There were the husbands and boyfriends who followed their significant others around as the women looked at comfortable and modest options, the mens' eyes lighting up only when they saw the lace and silk. What followed was a silent cajoling to buy the lace. Only to be shut down unceremoniously.

I should refrain from talking about the roving eyes, but it is a post about men in lingerie shops, so that cannot be avoided. The 'roving eyes' deserve a special mention, especially when an above average beauty with the curves in the right places walks in unattended by a male companion. The beauty being the center of attention for the better part of her sojourn through the arrays of push ups, underwires and lace. An inward collective sigh can be heard when she picks the balcony push ups, collective dilating of pupils as she sashays away. 

We also have the confused good Samaritan, who has been sent on the errand to pick up the exact brassiere with exact parameters.Only he believes he knows best and picks what he thinks will 'look good'. But you will see him again, only this time to exchange the unwanted merchandise in exchange for what was wanted in the first place.

We have many more to get through, but I believe my journey has just begun.