As the year 2010 begins, I like to look back at one or two events of the previous year that formed my, ahem, 'life-changing' decisions. One in particular was a conversation which helped me decide to become 'panti-less in NYC.' In July of 2009, my gynecologist’s instructions for the health of a woman’s nether-regions were succinct and to the point.

“Women would be better off if they wore a skirt and no panties, Kristen. They would have no problems with yeast infections or anything else. You might want to try it.”

 “You mean you want me to do Britney and Lindsay did?” I said jokingly.

  “Who?”  

My doctor is not into the gossip mill of celebrity antics so I explain just “who” they are and what items of lingerie they don’t wear.

“Well, they’re probably better off,” is all he says, patting my shoulder.

Now I am a pretty free-spirited person, at least I like to think I am, but the idea of not wearing panties under a skirt was a bit free-er than my spirit wanted. Still, I decided to give it a shot.

In the outer office I tell my husband what the doctor has recommended and he gets this strange smile on his face. I tell him to stop thinking with his libido for once; I’m trying to stay healthy here for God’s sake! In answer he squeezes my hand.

The first day I put on a skirt with nothing underneath I feel weird. It’s not like I’ve never not worn panties, but that was usually under pants so as to avoid VPLs (visible panty lines). But to get back to the skirt and being panti-less, its summer and I have no skirt in my closet that goes below my knees.

I walk past my cats and feel as if they’re staring at me. I think: they know! Being cats, they don’t care but they know. As I come into the kitchen to grab a mug of coffee, my husband’s eyes follow me like a hound dog on a hot trail. He grabs me and gives me more than his usual morning peck.

 “Sleep okay?” His voice sounds deep and throaty. Oh God! I sit at the table with my legs pressed primly together.

Truth be told, I love wearing lingerie; doesn’t matter what’s on the outside, underneath I’m a silky girly-girl. This is more than likely a direct result of having gone, as a teenager, to a private academy where the idea of how proper young girls should dress meant uniforms that included not only bland skirts, slacks, and blazers, but plain, dull, white underwear, but that is another story.

I see my husband gearing up for our usual morning jog.

 “C’mon honey. Let’s go,” he says grabbing a bottle of water.

I tell him I can’t. I’m wearing a skirt. He tells me that I wear a skirt when I play tennis, what’s the difference? There are shorts panties attached to it, I say.

 “Nobody will know you’re not wearing panties, except me.”

Just the way he says it gives me a shiver. I am naked!

Anyway, it’s not a sport skirt and I refuse to go jogging on the possibility that the skirt may bounce a bit more than I want. We compromise by going for a fast walk. My feeling that everyone will somehow know is totally groundless. No one even gives me a second glance. It is strange but I have to admit I feel very exhilarated.

Passing neighbors and strangers, I want to sing-song that “I have a secret and nobody knows it!”
I could get to like this free feeling.

My husband glances at me and winks. I feel a heady combination of sexy and….. slightly slutty. I wink back.

Women and "under" pants have a long convoluted history together. Through the centuries there have been some interesting stories about what women have worn...and not worn. The pre-pubescent Lindsay and Britney fans would be surprised to learn that those two aren’t the first celebs not to wear panties.

A Hollywood story goes that Jean Harlow’s new maid, while putting away Jean’s clothes, went crazy looking for the beautiful lingerie she assumed Miss Harlow wore. Finally she asked the actress where her “undergarments” were only to be told by Jean that,

 ' “Oh, those. I don’t have any, I never wear panties. They’re too confining.” '

Diane de Poitiers, the famous mistress of two French kings never wore anything under her delicate court gowns. In her case it may have been more for social convenience; she was a mistress after all and never knew when or where the king might get amorous.

It is rumored that Catherine de’ Medici of the famous Florentine Renaissance family, preferred to be “senza catene giu` sotto” or unfettered down below.

So having nothing under down under is a time honored female tradition in a way. To wear or not wear panties is a very individual choice based on various needs or preferences. As the weeks go by, I’m pretty certain that I am not the only woman not wearing “something under.”

There are distinct advantages too.

My husband is very attentive and I have made a style change. I’ve decided that skirts and being panti-less, coupled with high heels, makes me feel sexier than slacks with pretty lingerie underneath them.

A month later, back in my doctor’s office for a check-up I pass his receptionist who tells me I look different.

“Wow! Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. I’ve never seen you look so good or so happy. What’s your secret?”

I smile, give her a “who knows?” shoulder shrug, and say nothing. I think of Diane de Poitiers, Jean Harlow, Catherine de’ Medici, and the millions of unnamed women in history who chose to be free of constraint.

My secret is mine. Panti-less in New York City; who knew what freedom it would bring?

***

Kristen Houghton is the author of, "AND THEN I'LL BE HAPPY! Stop Sabotaging Your Happiness and Put Your Own Life First" published by GPP Life.