/ 7 June 2002

Scant respect

In the early 1990s when South Africa was in the throes of political change, the Afrikaner Weerstands- beweging (AWB) and its leader, Eugene Terre’blanche, were much in the news. The right-wing racist organisation was perceived as a genuine threat to peaceful transition, but then a story broke and undermined any credibility the AWB might have had.

No, it wasn’t the bungled attack on the World Trade Centre (the one in Kempton Park, not the twin towers of New York), nor Terre’blanche’s equally risible fall from his horse during a march.

It was Jani Allen’s revelations about Terre’blanche’s underwear. The one-time Sunday Times journalist had contrived to spend a night in the company of the AWB leader (the details of how this came about were sordid but do not directly concern us here) and she shared with a surprised public that the leier of the volk sported green underpants — holey green underpants at that.

Not since Superman wore his on the outside was there so much debate about a man’s underwear (though South Africa later scooped the world by becoming the first country to have a pair of Y-fronts as its national flag).

So why so little discussion of what men wear? There are whole shops and websites devoted to ”lingerie” — but not even a separate word to distinguish men’s underclothing.

At first I thought it could just be a form of sexism, where — as usual — the delight of the (male) beholder was more important than the comfort of the (female) wearer. I mean, no woman could have invented something as completely impractical as crotchless knickers.

My suspicions were that Terre’blanche might not have been such an isolated case. Previous personal experience showed that many men regarded a pair of underpants in the same light as they did a favourite jumper knitted by granny: the older, tattier and shapeless it was, the more charm it held.

But, I was assured, fashion has changed all that. Pantsula and hip-hop style — where the crotch of the trousers hangs to the knees — has given underwear a lot more exposure. From something almost never seen, the waistband of underpants has now become as visible (and desirable to branding) as peak caps. A low-slung pair of jeans, with the logo of Hugo Boss or Calvin Klein clearly visible at the waist, is the height of fashion.

A straw poll of what the men at the Mail & Guardian wear under their kilts (sadly only one replied ”nothing”) revealed that their choices are a little wider than the waistbands of gangsta style.

The big ”Cs” dominate decisions on where to store the family jewels: cloth, cut, colour and cost. Most of my male colleagues admitted to favouring Y-front briefs made of soft natural fibres in dark colours. Patterns and cute cartoon characters are a no-no. Black briefs are very popular, although many also like green — without holes.

Famous brand names are all very well, but their cost is prohibitive. The average South African man buys his undies at Woollies or one of the larger clothing chain stores, not in exclusive boutiques. (So does the average woman — sorry to ruin your fantasies, guys.)

Boxer shorts were the second most popular choice — and, again, muted colours and soft fabrics are the way to go. Several respondents said they favoured a mix of briefs and boxers, using the latter particularly as sleepwear.

More esoteric styles, such as G-strings and tangas, found favour among the gay set — but brought a frown or a grimace from older or straighter interviewees.

On one matter they were virtually unanimous — they all claimed to buy their own underpants. It was then that I became rather suspicious of the answers I was getting. The single and the gay buying their own? Perhaps. The married? Nah. Wives buy the underpants, it’s a fact of married life. The husband might get to choose the style and the colour, but that’s about as far as it goes.

If they’ve been kidding me on this, what else is false in their responses? How many secret ETs are there in the newsroom?

Short of inviting a sexual-harassment charge by insisting my colleagues line up and drop their trousers for an inspection, I’ve been unable to prove my theory.

But a quick poll of the women in the office shows the gender gap in perception. Forget the slinky black scants. The girls want white Y-fronts or patterned boxers. And who cares what’s in the briefs, they say. Give us a nice six-pack above.