You should be reading Elyse Sewell’s blog:
I always scold myself on the kinda-rare occasions that I buy emergency socks or underwear instead of doing laundry: like, how wasteful and disorganized. How contemptible! But oops, life got so entropic in Budapest that I found myself in the panty zone of a supermarket, late nite, weighing my options. Go commando the next day? Drive down the dirty dual lanes of Inside-Out Avenue? Or cough up for cheap Hungarian drawers? Well.
The next morning I hitched my new undies up over my shoulders and swaggered off to the public bathhouse, excess fabric billowing out the back of my pants and luffing in the breeze off the Danube River.
