My column in the DNA last week:
“The other day, I found myself in the warren of tightly packed stores adjoining a suburban railway station. In this hot-house of hedonistic shopping, one was assured of getting everything from festive wear to utensils to household linen and err….In the tiny shop window of an otherwise staid shop, on proud display was what they call a ‘bra-panty’ set in brilliant red satin and lace, with the strategic areas where the nipples and the crotch area would be, cut out in heart shapes.
I sprang quickly to block my mother’s eyes from this, but she was already snorting derisively. “They’ve cut out the main area that needs to be covered. What is the point?” I suspected of course, that she did get the point of it but she would not let on. After all, I still have to be disabused of the notion that I was the result of immaculate conception. It set me thinking, that shiny set, treading the indelicate balance between the coyness of a cover-up and the brazenness of a deliberate reveal.”
Read the entire article here