One of the lasting gifts of the women’s movement is our freedom from, shall we say, “restrictive” undergarments.  I am old enough to remember the great relief we felt on shedding such undergarments after a day at work. 

The following scene brought it all back to me.  As we were driving on a bridge over the Charles River near Boston University (BU) on a mild spring day, I saw a group of young women running, most wearing red BU T-shirts and short-shorts appropriate for the occasion.  They caught up with us at a red light and ran in place.

I couldn’t help but notice their cute butts in their tight-fitting shorts.  I remembered my former butt and missed it.