My Comfort Zone – Julie Bensman


My laundry guy is the only one who knows my full underwear situation. I see him once a week, we nod in acknowledgement and he seizes my heaping pile of clothes, 70% of which are undies.

I've got workout undies, daytime thongs, lacy numbers for Friday nights and my ultimate faves, the boy short. As soon as I get home from work, I start stripping down, leaving shirts, pants and undies in my wake. There's nothing like slipping into some cool, clean, cotton Fruit of the Loom boy shorts, you know what I mean? On hot summer evenings, I just throw on a gray cotton tank, like this racerback version from GapFit and call it a day. Cooler evenings call for a knit sweater (I love this one from Steven Alan) or my favorite silk harem pants. I like to pour a glass of white wine, attempt to cuddle with my ornery cat and just veg.

If I'm feeling sprightly, I'll do a bit of yoga – in some ALALA tights or often just my Fruit of the Loom boy shorts (a perk of at-home practice). The boy shorts have recently been reinvented and they’re now softer than ever – so super comfortable as I bend and flex into various yogi poses. The undies are tag-free (genius!) and the waistband stays securely in place so I’m never tugging on a wedgie. Pair those with an adidas by Stella McCartney sports tank and I’m good to get my Zen on.


No matter how many times I wash them, my boy shorts never seem to show signs of aging. You know those old pairs of underwear you’ve had since high school where the elastic at the waistband is springing out every which way? It never happens with my Fruit of the Loom pairs. The brand has a 100% guarantee just in case, but I’ve literally never had to tap into it.

I’ve got a pair of boy shorts in every color – you’ve got to if you change it up as often as I do. If you look in my closet, you'll find a sea of black, white and gray (most recent purchase: this amazing dress from Reformation). If you look in my underwear drawer, however, you'll find a rainbow of cotton amazingness. It's a small thrill to think I'm the only one who knows what's going on underneath that black pencil skirt…well, me and my laundry guy, that is.

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