Internet Shopping Misadventures: $20 Underwear

I'm not the kind of guy who typically blabs about what lies between his person and his Wrangler jeans. Not because it isn't polite conversation, but because, well, who really cares? However, I am breaking with tradition in this Clanging Bell post to talk about a recent experiment with some high-end briefs. Yes, when it comes to underwear, I became a card-carrying, brief-wearing member of the one percent.

Here's the thing, up until a year or so ago, I believed I was already a one percenter in the men's-briefs department. I've been wearing Tommy Hilfiger briefs for years. Currently at Amazon, you can have a four pack delivered (in two days for free as a Prime member) for $22.99. To prevent your head exploding from doing a little long division without a calculator, I've done the math. That works out to about $5.75 per brief. I think that's plenty to pay to keep Big Rusty and the boys from getting caught in my zipper.

Several months ago I was rescued from my fog of briefs ignorance when a buddy began regaling me with stories about the $25 per-pair Tommy John underwear he had begun wearing. He waxed on about the comfort, easy access and overall superiority of his briefs to any that had preceded his new top-dollar underwear. “It's like wearing nothing,” he insisted. "He really likes them," his wife chimed in. My curiosity was piqued. I like the idea of wearing nothing. I do it at home all the time. It used to scare the bejezzus out of the cat, but, hey, my house, my rules.

Despite wanting to share in his experience, I simply couldn't bring myself to pony up 25 bucks for one pair of underwear. Who does that? Sure, I want my junk to have a safe, cozy home, but I seemed to be adequately providing that with sub-six-dollar briefs. Plus, I didn't want something called Tommy John's that close to my business.

Here's a bit of advice, if you find yourself shopping on the Internet with a beer, a glass of wine or a pour of bourbon in one hand as you search with the other, stop, log off and walk away. Nothing good can come of it. Two or three days later you will find a salad spinner, a case of Rice A Roni or a couple of pair of $20 briefs on your doorstep. I've seen it happen.

As I was messing around on the Internet one day, a pop-up ad for Mack Weldon magically appeared. I had never heard of Mack Weldon, but there was a photo of some cut dude wearing a pair of Mack Weldon briefs. Wow, they looked good on him, I considered. I clicked on the ad, which landed me on its site, opening the door to $20 briefs.

I took the plunge and put two pair in my cart. As a new customer, I qualified for free shipping, if I spent at least $50; so, I bought a pair of $14 socks, too. I like socks, as my credit line with Bombas will attest. I can always use another pair of overpriced socks, I figured. A few days later my Mack Weldon package arrived.

I opened the package, admired my purchases and tossed the two pairs of briefs into my suitcase. I had a trip to Asheville the following day for a Hyundai event. I decided to use that stage as the maiden cruise for my high-end undies.

I slipped a pair on the first day and tried to calculate how they might be superior to my regular briefs. I came up with nothing. The briefs I chose are what the manufacturer calls 18-Hour Jersey Briefs. Maybe I should have sprung for the $24 AIRKNITx Briefs. Well, perhaps you need to pull on some pants to gain the full effect? I did. Nada. Then I decided that maybe I needed to give them the full 18 hours to be able to appreciate their superiority. At the end of the day, I remained unconvinced the $14 more I paid over my Hilfiger's was well spent.

And the kicker is, none of my buddies realized I was wearing $20 underwear. I spent the day with a bunch of these guys and the price of my underwear never came up in the conversation. Once, after the drinks began flowing, I almost blurted out, “I'm wearing $20 underwear! How much did yours cost?” But the urge quickly passed.

As for them feeling like you're wearing nothing at all, nah. The only way to feel like you are wearing nothing at all is to wear nothing at all. My days of going commando ended for good after my first screening of “There's Something About Mary.” The phrase “frank and beans” still gives me nightmares.

So, the great $20-Brief Experiment of 2019 was a bust. Maybe the socks will impress me.