It's not like I own an inordinate amount of lingerie. There are a scanty few spaghetti strap thingies and a thong, for crying out loud (okay, maybe THREE thingies and TWO thongs), but still, they're THERE, they exist, mostly living quietly in my drawer among my more socially responsible and conservative cotton underwear and underwire, supportive, socially conscious brassieres.
They whisper to me, though, like an underground river. They sit there, sometimes, if my weight is particularly troublesome, for months or even, yes, years at a time. But when I'm feeling just right, and even if I haven't lost any weight but I FEEl like I like my derriere on that day, then I can slide open the drawer and, voila! Instant Paris, circa 1837 and I can undulate in a sort of old-fashioned yet completely liberated space of a profusion of transparent, indecent lace in ways that make me feel I can be a woman and a silly, wanton plaything all rolled up into one steaming pair of fishnets.
Personally, I don't have the money to shop consistently or, really, at all at Frederick's of Hollywood or Victoria's Secret. If I splurge on a new six pack of socks for myself I usually have to budget that out. But I have a few pieces of lingerie that, for me, are like old, dear friends. I almost never see them anymore, but when I do, I feel relaxed and, in some ways more like myself than I have in awhile.
It's possible that lingerie can really be used by and for women, regardless of whether or not they have a partner.
In my single days, which were less than three years ago, I had two sons and no lovers and yet I still put my lingerie on and enjoyed this time alone more than I can express in words. Getting comfortable with your own sexuality does not mean getting down and dirty with yourself all the time; it can be as simple as admiring the sensations, the visual impact and the feeling of yourself in that silk babydoll and then going to sleep.
Whether you are trying on something new, presenting something sexy to your partner, or just relishing your own form, reignite your passion for lingerie. Like old jazz records and a wonderful book, it just doesn't go out of style.
You can visit more of Aimee Boyle's writing at http://straightandnarrow.yolasite.com