As someone who joined TSCC somewhat later in life, I admit that I never could manage to generate feelings of reverence toward the “sacred” underwear. As a TBM, I dutifully wore the temple garments; but they were physically clumsy compared to regular underwear, and spiritually meaningless to me. If, between use and cleaning, they got the floor, I had no fear of being zapped for having an indifferent attitude toward them.

Did you ever feel reverent toward your garments; and at what point did your feeling toward them change?

I remember my mom leaving her garments out on the kitchen table while doing laundry and whenever we'd walk through she'd say "don't look at my garments" or "don't pay attention to what my garments say" or something to that effect.

She has a degree in psychology and it's obvious what she was doing was trying to get us to want to see what was on the garments like there was some "secret message" that would reveal great truths and give one power or something.

She wanted us to build up in our minds that there was something truly awesome about the garments that only the worthy should be able to see.

So yes, before I received the garment I had some level of reverence for them.

Once I received them I was like "this is bullshit. I waited all this time to see what I could have seen on any masonic lodge?"

I clearly remember the first time I realized how strange they were when wearing them. I was standing around the water cooler with 3 other clowns and started to laugh out loud at their clown panties. The first clown asked me what's so funny and I replied those clown panties are so f-ing stupid how can you wear those. The other 2 clowns dropped their pants and showed me they were wearing the exact same clown panties. I laughed even harder until they asked to see my underwear. When i dropped my pants the 3 clowns asked me what ward I lived in and where I went on my mission.

Now I too wear clown panties as they garner less attention. Ha ha.

Other than the time they saved my torso from a burning building...I have never felt they were anything other than funky.

Nope, I also hated them from the get go. I never really believed they kept anyone safe. I thought of them as a reminder of the temple.

Nope.

How could I feel reverent toward something that I soiled?

I did. I would never let them touch the ground and totally believed in their "protective powers."

I had old relatives back in the 1800's who wrote stories of being protected by garments so I thought for sure they could stop bullets, etc.

You ought to put excerpts of those journal entries on here. I'm sure they'd be fun to read.

I remember one time on my mission-I had a BIC companion from Ogden, I believe. Our dirty laundry bags were on the floor of our closet. Where else do you put your frikkin' dirty laundry bag, anyway, right? Hang it from the ceiling fan?
So I throw my garmies into my dirty laundry bag , and comp says,
"elder, your garments are on the floor!"
I look at him in silence for a full minute like, "you've got to be kidding, right?"
Finally I say, "Its dirty underwear. Its in my laundry bag. Live with it."
The lightswitch finally turned on, he shrugs his shoulders, and threw his underwear in his laundry bag, which was also on the floor.

It didn't help that I moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to Oklahoma a couple of weeks later. It stays hot at night there - I was miserable with the climate change anyway. We didn't have air conditioning in our apartment and the garmies, together with sharing a bed in a much warmer and more humid weather, was torture. Then I got pregnant a few months after that.

They were still the one-piecers. The cotton ones were heavy and thick and the polyesters were just as bad.

YUCK!!!!!

I always figured that laundry was laundry.

The time when I was issued with magic underwear was the most TBM time of my life. I was preparing to go on a mission, after spending most of my teenage years disregarding many commandments. I immersed myself in scripture study, attended all my meetings and was generally pretty righteous, for at least 6 months.

So when I first started wearing the magic underwear I didn't call it such. I was pretty reverent towards them for at least a couple of months before bad habits started slipping in. First I would discard them on the bathroom floor whilst showering, without folding them neatly on a chair. Next would come taking off the top at night during the summer when it was too hot.

Before you know it, you're not bothering to cut the masonic symbols out when you throw them away, and you can't bring yourself to replace them when they're falling apart!

I still wear them now (due to sharing a bed with a TBM who is less than impressed that I have discovered the truth about "our" religion...) but I will not replace them. I can't, with integrity, ever purchase any more ever again. I guess the shit will hit the fan eventually.

No........to me they were much like a straight jacket. a poorly designed one at that.

I never felt reverence for them. Just wore them out of duty.

I didn't much. It was like so many things with the church--love hate relationship.

My mother instructed us when folding clothes not to let the sacred garmies touch the ground. We had to put something else in their pile underneath it--lest we be smitten with a curse or something.

Right after going the first time and I got horny that night. Figuring out masturbation and garments weirded me out for about a week. What did I believe, was masturbation really evil and so on. Then it was spanking as usual.

My mother bought me some of the old flare-leg garments, when all the garments were one-piece. She showed me how to cut the legs apart, and sew them up like a slip, so I could wear my regular underwear underneath, including sanitary panties at that time of the month. Mom had yards and yards of special lace she had bought in Ireland, and she sewed lace around the bottom of the garment slip, and also around the neckline.

Seriously, with the flare leg, women were supposed to pee through one of the legs. With the open-crotch style garments, the crotch was always flying open. With the shorter skirts, once in a while you would get flashed by a Mormon woman sitting with her legs apart. (One of our aunts was famous for this.)

Years later, I told my cousins about my lacy slip garments, and they burst out laughing. They took me into their mother's room, and in her drawer were three pairs of garments with the same alterations and lace on them. These had been a gift from my mother. Who knows who else my RS pres mother corrupted.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 10/25/2011 04:15PM by motherwhoknows.

That's outrageous!

I was proud to finally have them after I got married but I couldn't deny they were as unsexy as hell and I was always embarrassed for my husband to see me in them. It never helped that the Distribution ladies always pushed the too-big sizes on me. Satan prompted me to acquire an "alternative" wardrobe of nighties and under-things (!)

Also, I was taught in RS to cut the markings off and burn them in tin foil in the sink. I did that once and thought, 'this is so silly!'and donated them to DI intact after that.

does achieving the Moment of Supreme Ecstasy while wearing them count?



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 10/25/2011 06:17PM by guynoirprivateeye.

But here is a replay for the newbies on the board. After my youngest was born, I put all the maternity and nursing garments in a box in our garage. We moved to a small farm not long after and the box got put in the basement. We were pretty sure we were done with kids but I hadn't gotten around to disposing of the garments properly i.e. cutting out and destroying the markings.

Anyway, we forgot about the box with all the other things in our storage room and the next winter, because we were on a farm with a lot of fruit trees, our house was overrun with mice. It was an old house we were renting with lots of places for mice to get in and an unsympathetic landlord. We caught about 22 that winter. The next summer we bought a house and while moving, we found the box of garments. The mice had nested in them and they were covered with pee and they reeked. But I still felt the need to cut all the markings out of them. I probably should have washed them first with hot water and bleach or just burned the entire pile but I didn't think of having a campfire and didn't want them in my washing machine and didn't think about taking them to the laundry. So I just stupidly sat there, crying, cutting out the markings. They were so gross but I felt obligated to dispose of them properly. Thankfully, I learned my lesson and when I decided the church was a hoax, I took a pure pleasure in throwing my garments in the garbage, marks and all.

I also had a mission companion that got really upset when she accidentally dropped her garments on the floor. She wanted to call the MP and repent. I told her that was silly so she went around in a black mood until I gave up and told her to call him. I'm not sure what he said to her, but it cheered her up, thankfully.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 10/25/2011 05:53PM by CA girl.

CA girl Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
.
>
> I also had a mission companion that got really
> upset when she accidentally dropped her garments
> on the floor. She wanted to call the MP and
> repent. I told her that was silly so she went
> around in a black mood until I gave up and told
> her to call him. I'm not sure what he said to
> her, but it cheered her up, thankfully.

And that, boys and girls, spells C-U-L-T.