Just the mention of it will send my boys screaming. Hubby just prefers not to think about it unless it is in the aspect of it coming off, but that's for a different, most likely private entry.
I discovered years ago, that for some reason, the drawer containing my underwear will NEVER be broached by the males living under the same roof as I. I don't know why this is, after all I'm into theirs daily when I put laundry away. Because of this aversion to my underwear drawer, it is the ideal place to hide something I don't want anyone else getting into. Everything from money to gifts. I have even been known to stash a delectable bit of chocolate in there on the occasion I don't want to share (unfortunately this does not apply to ice cream...).
What is it about these scraps of fabric that so terrorizes the males of our species? They are not toxic, do not cause pain under casual circumstances, have no supernatural properties, and are relatively harmless. Yet these flimsy things seem to set the knees knocking on even a wizened drill instructor (as I discovered when going through basic training for the Air Force).
Perhaps we need to not aim our missles at terrorists, but lingerie? Forget dropping bombs in the Middle East, drop Hanes and Jockey. That ought to send Osama quivering into the deepest cave!