I am writing from Canada to give thanks and kudos on behalf of all women round the world, who are now well informed regarding their underwear, via your courts.
As a wearer of the commonly named “granny panties”, your basic waist-high, sensible cotton knickers, not a touch of lace in sight, I am secure in the knowledge that I am definitely not going to be on any rapists’ lists of women throughly gagging for it.
I must confess, however, that hidden in the back of my underwear drawer, and forgive me for mentioning this horror, there are a few pairs of black lacy nothings, saved for those special, rape-y occasions. Oh, and a pink bra. One cannot forget the come-hither-have-your-way-with-me-now pink bra. Heaven knows what I am advertising with that... ooh la la!
From now on, I shall keep those lacy underthings well sequestered, never to be worn in the company of men again, lest the sharing of them indicate nod nod, wink wink, that I am advertising my wares and available for all advances, both wanted and unwanted.
My granny panties leave me with visible panty lines on the outside of my trousers and skirts. Underwear-clad ladies can conveniently alert potential rapists via their bumps and lumps, that they are currently unavailable for sexual assault. How fabulous. We need to make those VPLs a public service announcement. What a waste of time for your garden-variety rapist to be chasing after the wrong gal.