My New Myla
Comments(2) Some little voice inside is telling me that I shouldn’t write about my knickers on a public blog. You know, one that grandmothers and bosses might see. With apologies, however, I am going to go ahead and ignore that voice, and if you are a boss or a potential employeer, or a grandmother, or anybody else who doesn’t want to know about my knickers, please just skip this post. It won’t actually be very titillating anyway.
The reason I am ignoring that sensible voice in my head is because I have recently become OBSESSED by MYLA. And anyway, I would be remiss in the serious research purpose of this blog if I ignored a purchase category as charged with emotion and politics and women’s underwear. I mean, from corsets and crinolines to wonderbras and thongs, ladies’ smalls are a barometer of changing times and the delicate balance of sexual politics.
As I am sure you know, Myla is one of the new generation of fun, sexy, and beautifully made –if un peu cher – lingerie brands. In my awareness, the trend started with Agent Provocateur, but I could be wrong about that. These lines are different from the La Perlas of the world because they are younger and more attitudinal. Whereas La Perla is for a Stepford Wife sort of perfectly preserved Brentwood housewife, Agent P et al is lingerie for a generation of woman who grew up taking feminism’s victories for granted. Its for the PRs and stylists of this world, independent, self-possessed and self-promotional, for whom sexuality is one more tool she can use to claw her way to the top of the A-list. Not that that’s me of course (just want to make that clear for all the bosses and grandmothers who are still reading!), but that is the brand fantasy they are projecting.
Anyway, I much prefer Myla to Agent P., which is in fact only saved from being complete ho-wear by the multi-hundred dollar price tag. Myla is somehow more wholesome, the girl next door, but with a sly glint in her eye – Kirsten Dunst as Lux Lisbon, for example. Much more subversive.
Sadly, much of these theories about the relative merits of various high-end knicker brands was purely academic, as I am not usually in the market for undergarments that cost a sizeable portion of the montly rent. What brought on this Myla love was an amazing, gift-from-above *sale*! And also a break-up. But God bless clearance sales. Right around the corner from where I was living in Notting Hill, the lovely people at the Myla store decided to open up their backroom, stock it with racks and racks of their delectable little nothings, and drop drop drop their prices lower than a J. Lo neckline. Bras that used to be £120 down to £20 – that sort of J. low. My pulse was racing madly from the bargain, never mind the sexy lingerie. But the polka dots and lace and cute details and nice fabrics were all good too.
Ok, ok, back to the break-up bit, because of course this blog is about the psychology behind purchases. Arvind and I broke up. 
I wasn’t going to mention it here, but since he has featured in my stories, we thought I should. We are still good friends and all is well. But I have moved back to New York… and bought lingerie! I mean, that’s what you do when you become single – you move continents and buy underwear, right?
