This poem came about as the result of reading an article in a glossy magazine which suggested that the modern young man should buy lingerie for his partner as a token of his love. Helen and I had been married for a couple of years (so imagine me 25 years younger) and I was much more susceptible to the power of advertising then and definitely had aspirations to being cool and modern ….in those days!
So I did actually go to a lingerie shop and squirmed my way through the purchase, a Belfast lad totally out of his depth in an alien world. However the end result was that it gave me the idea to write a poem sort of based on that miss-adventure.
A big thank you to Joselyn of Orchid ladies lingerie for the use of her shop for filming and for her acting role along with her assistant Loraine and my friend Alison for playing the part of the blue rinse lady. I should also mention the great work carried out by Ian Gibson in filming this poem, indeed all of the poems so far. Without him there would not be much to show on the website.
I have decided to support Cancer Focus with this poem. Cancer is one of the scourges of our times and like most of us we know people who have had to fight it and unfortunately some who have lost that battle. Cancer Focus is a Northern Ireland based charity that has worked for many years identifying those most at risk and offering practical help and advice to those fighting or recovering from the disease. They also provide funds for further research.
So if you have enjoyed the poem and feel inclined to support Cancer Focus, please use the links to donate on the Just Giving page.
French Knickers
"French Knickers", my girl she said to me.
"They are so light, airy and silky",
And I knew exactly what she wanted to say,
For soon would arrive.... Saint Valentine's Day.
Now, French Knickers I know not well,
A bit like boxers from what I can tell,
But I thought I should better get a pair,
Just to show her how much I care.
The problem was, I was caught on the hop,
I didn't have a clue, as to where I should shop.
Asking friends? I didn't fancy that you know,
Maybe they would think I’d become less macho!’
A certain posh magazine answered my prayers,
Discrete advertisements for all underwears,
And one exclusive shop seemed just right,
Just round the corner from the building site.
So the following day, when we stopped for tea,
I nipped off for to see what I could see,
I thought I would just march right in there,
And ask the assistant to sell me a pair.
But, as I approached my confidence faltered,
And my body language became noticeably altered,
A hot red flush spread all over my face.
I marched right by at a hell of a pace.
I didn't stop till the newsagents, five shops later,
Where I dallied and pretended to read the paper.
There slowly my confidence came creeping back,
Until I had the nerve to have a second crack.
This time I returned with a more deliberate stride,
Breathing deep to control the butterflies inside,
Till finally I had returned to that lingerie shop,
Where with great difficulty, I got my legs to stop.
I looked through the window at their display,
Manikins in underwear all very classy,
Lingerie in purple and pink, black and blue,
Some lacy ones which you could see right through!
As I looked a lady came out of the shop,
Power dressed, confident, with a blue rinse top.
She looked at me, leering in my working clothes,
And I knew what she thought as she turned up her nose.
So I couldn't do it, go into that place,
I returned to the building site with sheepish face,
Where I pondered my problem, wondering what way
I could get those knickers for Valentine's Day.
Time rolled by and all too soon,
It was the thirteenth of February around about noon.
And I realized that there was no other way,
I had to go into that shop come what may.
So mustering my reserves and most determined stride,
I marched to the shop door and straight inside.
Into a world of frilly things, perfume and bows,
Suspenders, bras, pants, the most flimsy of clothes.
I halted, stopped by a barrage of glares,
As if my hand had been caught in the underwear’s.
Trapped I was, beside a display of exotic bras,
Being eyed up by the likes of your ma’s.
Fortunately they soon got bored and turned away,
Back to poking at clothes in that womanly way.
And I just stood there wondering what my da
Would have ever made of a bright red bra?
After an excruciating, extended delay,
I was beckoned forward by the assistant lady.
To the counter I shuffled, a sort of a stumble.
And as she smiled, I began to mumble.
I was wondering if er......you have any.......
Well I mean...... do you keep many......
You know, those French things, for my baby,
Oh, my wife I mean, you know, that sort of lady.
"French Knickers", sir, she said loudly to all the room,
"That's what you want...... I presume,
For your wife you say, that's just smashing,
Unfortunately sir, they are right out of fashion"!
Out of fashion! I couldn't believe my ears,
Surely underwear remains untouched by the years.
I mean, who is ever going to guess,
That your underwear fashion is a bit of a mess.
"Well, w...w...what's the current fashion", I stammered,
My confidence now well and truly hammered,
"Well sir" says she "These have a certain class”,
And flourishes briefs which wouldn't cover your ass!
"Hum......says I, not what I had in mind,
French style I think you shall definitely find,
Is what she desires, despite the fashion?
Or else she is likely to cut my ration".
So in her drawers, this lady pokes about,
And after some rummaging finally pulls out,
A pair of things that were very racy,
You could see right through; they were lacy.
Mind you they wouldn't do much on a winter's day,
But in certain circumstances they have a role to play,
So I decided to buy a bargain pack of three,
Because that's the way I buy jockies...... you see.
Fortunately though I decided to ask the price,
After telling the lady that they were really nice.
"Just fifty five pounds sir, do you want them wrapped"?
"Not on your Nelly cried I.... the ideas been scrapped"!
Fifty five pounds for such scanty underwear!
So full of holes it was mainly air.
I was really in a terrible state of shock,
As I stumbled blindly out of that shop.
It took me the rest of the day to recover,
To realize that I still had no gift for my lover,
And I didn't have a clue what to get her,
Just to show her just how much I care.
So just before five I scuttled over to the shops,
And at the Hardware Store, I bought three flower pots.
On Valentine's Day I handed them over; in fear,
And she said, "Where's the French Knickers my dear"?
So I had to tell her the whole sorry tale,
And the funny thing was, she laughed herself pale.
And the value she's had telling all her friends,
Will long outlast any French fashion trends!!
Jim Brown, (sometime around 2000)
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