What follows is a repeat from a blog on this date in 2008 (with a few adjustments). And since it is that same Victoria Day holiday I felt it was still apt and because it is a holiday I don’t feel particularly ambitious or creative. Enjoy, I hope.
It was in London’s Victoria and Albert Museum that many years ago I saw a sight that haunts me to this day.
It was a pair of Queen Victoria’s underpants. I don’t know how they got them and wondered if some 19th century pervert had rummaged through her laundry hamper. But, the point is, they were huge! You could have accommodated a troop of Boy Scouts in them.
Not only were they huge – they were crotchless! That’s right, the lady parts of this paragon of rectitude were uncovered.
Did that mean that the Queen of Britain and her Empire was a bit on the kinky side and always ready for action? Well, maybe she was. There was that John Brown rumor, after all. But, it was for another reason that they were gusset-less. And supposedly she and her husband Prince Albert had a riotous sex life with the supposedly prim queen being particularly avid. I mean, good heavens, they spawned about 200 princelings and princesses who worked hard later on to bring about World War One.
Ladies of her day wore commodious skirts, sometimes hooped, and mightily difficult to hitch up when nature called. Consequently, they would merely stand in place – hopefully somewhere out on the lawn, maybe near the croquet pitch, and simply pee down their legs. Neither very sanitary or esthetically dainty, and I don’t mean to be indelicate here, but sometimes a gal has to do what she has to do. Oh, and that is the primary reason for the crotchlessness, I have heard. I wasn’t there to observe.
I only mention all of this stuff because today, in Canada, and elsewhere in the Commonwealth, it is Victoria Day.
So, here’s a toast to the old Queen and her voluminous knickers. Long may they both reign, in our hearts, at least.