Somehow, I've ended up an unwitting member of the 'Bali and Britain International Knicker Exchange Program'.Something very strange is happening to my lingerie drawer. All of my rather cute, albeit worn, bikini underpants are gradually being replaced by silk, frilly, brightly coloured knickers.
Now, if I thought the husband was up to the task (or even cared - let's be honest) I might accuse him of trying to inject a little excitement into our otherwise 'Bohemian Balinese lifestyle', by giving my knicker collection a bit of an upgrade. I mean he does it with computers so why not his wife?
However this is clearly not the case. Rather I blame our local 'laundromat' (which let's face it is just a tiny shack with a washing machine, a couple of bored girls and some outside hanging lines).
Twice a week our cleaner Wayan drops off our dirty laundry in exchange for a clean load.
Twice a week i rip open the cellophane wrapper (why they think this fools anyone into thinking they did anything more that spray the clothes with Febreze then iron them, i don't know) and discover new bits of frilly silk/polyester smalls.
Hmmm....
At this rate, in a few months I'll be kitted out like a cheap whore underneath my grubby Goa-worn beach clothes...
Or maybe it's the Universes way of telling me 'not to pass GO, not to collect 200 Rupiah' and get straight online to Victoria's Secret before I become WAY to comfortable with stretchy Gap cotton and never find my way back to sexy.
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