The Case for Souvenir Underpants
Yesterday I wore the souvenir underpants that I bought in Norway last Spring. I'm willing to bet that 99.9% of people that I saw (and who saw me) had absolutely no idea I had "Norway" scrawled across my butt. I suppose it's begs a question. Well, at least one. Why buy (and sell for that matter) souvenir underwear when no one (especially if you're me) is going to see them? Isn't the point of souvenirs - t-shirts, hats, even refrigerator magnets and shot glasses - to shout out where we've been? And to give the place we've visited loads of free advertising? Souvenir underwear misses on both counts (at least for the vast majority of travelers). In addition, nothing bought in any souvenir shop in any city in the world is "cheap," including underpants. So, why do I have a pair of bright red souvenir bikini briefs from Norway, you ask?
Look, I know those of you sitting at home are thinking it's absolutely ridiculous. And I promise I've shared your opinion on more than one occasion. Here's how it goes. You land in some vacation paradise (Yes, Scandinavia is mine) and you decide to take a stroll through town. It's only Day 1, but you find yourself in one of a zillion souvenir stores along your route through the touristy part of town. As you peruse the mugs, t-shirts, key chains, scarves, hats, shot glasses, coasters, bath salts, coasters, calendars, sweatshirts,and other assorted tchotchke items, you come across a display of underpants. You think - and I promise you do - "How ridiculous!?!? Who would buy those?" You shake your head in wonder, laugh, and move on.
I've thought all that. On multiple vacations. Ok, every vacation. And I'm sure I'll think it again. I'll forget all about Bergen and finding myself a pair of underwear short. I'll also forget about the Chinese laundry that will inevitably spring up in my very tiny hotel bathroom along about Day 5 (Day 4 if I'm doing a lot of running).
Because, it happens. You cannot possibly pack enough underwear to last an entire two week plus run-cation. Your entire bag would be filled and you'd have no room for actual clothes. It's inevitable. You're going to run out of essentials and have to do laundry. In your bathroom (See my blog post from March 2018 entitled "No Tickey, No Laundry" for details). After ten days of that, you're going to get tired of the washing, the ringing, the wet towels, the clothes drying everywhere. So tired that when you discover you're going to run short, you actually consider going commando or wearing your last pair inside out on the flight home.
But then there you are buying a couple last minute souvenirs and you see them. What was once absolutely ridiculous suddenly becomes genius. Red or white? Small or medium? Seriously, these will be your only thoughts. No more shaking of the head, no more laughter. Those size small red bikini briefs are suddenly The Souvenir, outdoing the bookmark you bought in Copenhagen and the two pairs of running tights and shirt you bought at that discount running store in Oslo. No rationalization required .You need these. Need. Them.
One note on size... Whatever size you normally wear, go up a size. They might be pricey but they're also cheap and tend to shrink. Of course, if you have no desire to wear them once you get home (They do in fact return to ridiculous status after that first washing), get your usual. My theory, however, is that if I'm paying hard earned money (close to $20 American) and I'm already over-budget, they need to count for something. They need to go into the stable and get worn. Even if no one knows.
Which is kind of sad. Norway, I love you and I advertised for you all day yesterday. I suppose it worked, too, because now I'm jonesing to go back. First up is Croatia, though. Where I'll have a washing machine at my Air BnB and I'll be able to have all the clean underpants I desire without the full-on Chinese laundry. Sadly (Yes, I just said that), I won't be sitting here a year from now with CROATIA secretly emblazoned across my ass. Hmm.... I collect soccer jerseys from the countries I visit (I really wanted one from Iceland but they are as proud of their jerseys as they are of their team. I was not dropping $100USD even though they were seriously awesome looking). Maybe I need to add souvenir underpants to that list. I'll think on it and let you know in April.
Look, I know those of you sitting at home are thinking it's absolutely ridiculous. And I promise I've shared your opinion on more than one occasion. Here's how it goes. You land in some vacation paradise (Yes, Scandinavia is mine) and you decide to take a stroll through town. It's only Day 1, but you find yourself in one of a zillion souvenir stores along your route through the touristy part of town. As you peruse the mugs, t-shirts, key chains, scarves, hats, shot glasses, coasters, bath salts, coasters, calendars, sweatshirts,and other assorted tchotchke items, you come across a display of underpants. You think - and I promise you do - "How ridiculous!?!? Who would buy those?" You shake your head in wonder, laugh, and move on.
I've thought all that. On multiple vacations. Ok, every vacation. And I'm sure I'll think it again. I'll forget all about Bergen and finding myself a pair of underwear short. I'll also forget about the Chinese laundry that will inevitably spring up in my very tiny hotel bathroom along about Day 5 (Day 4 if I'm doing a lot of running).
Because, it happens. You cannot possibly pack enough underwear to last an entire two week plus run-cation. Your entire bag would be filled and you'd have no room for actual clothes. It's inevitable. You're going to run out of essentials and have to do laundry. In your bathroom (See my blog post from March 2018 entitled "No Tickey, No Laundry" for details). After ten days of that, you're going to get tired of the washing, the ringing, the wet towels, the clothes drying everywhere. So tired that when you discover you're going to run short, you actually consider going commando or wearing your last pair inside out on the flight home.
But then there you are buying a couple last minute souvenirs and you see them. What was once absolutely ridiculous suddenly becomes genius. Red or white? Small or medium? Seriously, these will be your only thoughts. No more shaking of the head, no more laughter. Those size small red bikini briefs are suddenly The Souvenir, outdoing the bookmark you bought in Copenhagen and the two pairs of running tights and shirt you bought at that discount running store in Oslo. No rationalization required .You need these. Need. Them.
One note on size... Whatever size you normally wear, go up a size. They might be pricey but they're also cheap and tend to shrink. Of course, if you have no desire to wear them once you get home (They do in fact return to ridiculous status after that first washing), get your usual. My theory, however, is that if I'm paying hard earned money (close to $20 American) and I'm already over-budget, they need to count for something. They need to go into the stable and get worn. Even if no one knows.
Which is kind of sad. Norway, I love you and I advertised for you all day yesterday. I suppose it worked, too, because now I'm jonesing to go back. First up is Croatia, though. Where I'll have a washing machine at my Air BnB and I'll be able to have all the clean underpants I desire without the full-on Chinese laundry. Sadly (Yes, I just said that), I won't be sitting here a year from now with CROATIA secretly emblazoned across my ass. Hmm.... I collect soccer jerseys from the countries I visit (I really wanted one from Iceland but they are as proud of their jerseys as they are of their team. I was not dropping $100USD even though they were seriously awesome looking). Maybe I need to add souvenir underpants to that list. I'll think on it and let you know in April.
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