We all know the feeling. You’re standing there talking to someone about, say, the current value of wheat crops when you realize something’s gone horribly wrong. Your skivvies have begun a slow trek northward, inch by inch encroaching on territory they have no business occupying. They’ve abandoned their duty to protect and serve for a hostile takeover instead.
Only slightly worse than that uncomfortable feeling of manmade material wedged into personal crevices is the raging internal debate: do I silently suffer this indignity or yank underwear out of my butt in front of this stranger?
Which is why I’m exceedingly grateful for skivvies that Stay Put. I’m not ashamed to say I’ll buy twenty pairs when I realize I’ve struck gold in this particular area, since for some unfathomable reason the clothing industry fails majestically at designing wedgie-proof undies.
So fly them high and sing it loud: all hail, Stay Put Skivvies.