That little midge with wings, Cupid, is preparing to flap his way around the world again, giving women a reason to step up their intimate game. Welcome to St. Valentine’s Day, the time of the year where lonely ovaries are vibrantly raging to “what if’s” of lovers past, and girls in the fast lane prepare to slut it up for a diner, jewelry and a box of chocolates in heart-shaped boxes.
In the past, V-day has always been a little challenging for me. As a migrant from Mother Russia, product of two parents who spent most of my childhood bickering and sleeping in separate bedrooms, I rarely got to witness glimpses of love between my mom and dad. Valentine’s Day would pass by like any other day, as would anniversaries, and any occasion worth celebrating.
When I was finally of age to date, I dated older, and boyfriends from my formidable Cleveland days would try to get me into the spirit, planning “fun” nights out, ending in a dozen red roses and a hotel room stays at a Holiday Inn. It wasn’t until moving to New York and meeting Saynt that the day of love really had any meaning. Our first year together, he planned a scavenger hunt throughout Manhattan, 16 cards with clues, which took us to various destinations in the city, each stop a little letter of love to our finding each other in NYC, a pause where we met, a visit to our first kiss.
Along the way, we’d always stop at a lingerie store, a preview of what was to come, and he’d pick out items that made me feel sexy and loved, a very different feeling to how I always viewed Valentines.
I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what we’ll be doing for V-day this year, technically our fifth in love. Rather than waiting for Saynt to pick up items, I’m pursuing a few selections from Panache, a British company that recently caught my eye for their selection and dedication to finding the perfect bra size. I’ve always had issues with my knockers, a plight that was documented during my time on True Life: I Hate My Large Breasts (seriously, look it up, hilarious scenes of me and Saynt back when we couldn’t afford the Gramercy life and were slumming it in the Bronx), and Panache’s collections seem perfectly attuned to different types of women.
Masquerade lingerie looks like it would be cupids’ ultimate pick for real women.
Cleo compliments the younger, more festive heart.
Superbra, which has a signature touch with classic sensibilities.
Basically, it’s the bra you use if you’re supporting a pair of watermelons on your chest, like me.
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