Lingerie: The Art of Unveiling

As a man, this post is going to be a wonder to write. Or rather, I think it will be, given that I am discovering it step by step, as the words move from my head to this digital blank sheet. (Note from "future me": This post was truly interesting to write!).

You’ve read it from the title, and the cover image leaves nothing unsaid: today I’m talking about lingerie. Whether you are a man or a woman, lingerie is quite popular—there’s no doubt about that! Obviously, men and women love it for different reasons, but both sexes share one thing: let no one try to ban it! There will never be a man who says, "Oh no, I don't like lingerie on a woman!" just as there will never be a woman who hates it to the point of seeking its sabotage.

With this post, I really want to celebrate it, trying to understand more about a garment that, effectively, is the very definition of aesthetic eroticism and about which I, frankly, know absolutely nothing. After all, my job is to admire it and take it off, not to choose it and wear it. Come on, let’s have some fun!

Definition.

Right from the definition, I realized I am an ignorant in the matter to incredible levels. I thought lingerie was a single garment shown in multiple versions, like what you see in adult films or when Hollywood tries to create a sexy scene (sometimes succeeding even better than porn). To me, lingerie was just panties and a bra. Instead, I was dead wrong.

I mean, in itself lingerie can be a single garment—because a woman wearing three sets of lingerie one over the other is highly funny to look at—but by modern definition, the word indicates the set of women's undergarments that combine practical function with a strong component of aesthetics, eroticism, design, and fashion. In short: all that underwear made of transparencies, silks, laces, and embroidery, which a woman wears when she wants to feel sexy, is called lingerie. This can include bras, panties, corsets, garter belts, and so on and so forth.

I didn't even know the meaning of the word. I had a strong suspicion that the name came from the land of the croissant, but I didn't know what it meant. The term derives from the word linge. For those who speak French, the mystery is already revealed. For me, who doesn't speak French, it was a bit of a disappointment: "linge" simply means "linen." A disappointing discovery, much like everything revolving around France (just joking, eh!).

My first reaction was: "What a terrible linguistic choice!". Then I kept reading and the reason is less stupid than it seems. Historically, all clothing items that were in close contact with the skin were made almost exclusively of linen fibers for their freshness, hygiene, and ease of washing. Therefore, for the French—but for the whole world until the 20th century—"lingerie" generically indicated all linen/laundry. The only distinction made was between "Linge de corps" (body linen) and "Linge de maison" (household linen, like sheets). If you think about it, we still do it now. When talking about "biancheria" (linen), you always have to specify if you mean underwear or bedsheets... only now everything is made of cotton or synthetic materials.

Now, however, I am curious: how did we get from lingerie as simple linen underwear to something that belongs to eroticism and female self-determination?

History.

The history of lingerie is a fascinating journey that has nothing to do with the corsets and panties we have in mind today. Like all garments linked to the female world (I’m thinking of the bikini, which we’ve already discussed), lingerie reflects not only the evolution of fashion but also social and technological changes and the perception of the body through the centuries.

Antiquity: Support and Functionality

IThe history of lingerie is a fascinating journey—one that bears little resemblance to the corsets and panties we typically envision today. Like all garments associated with the female realm (such as the bikini, which we have discussed previously), lingerie reflects not only the evolution of fashion but also the social and technological shifts—as well as the changing perception of the body—throughout the centuries.

In ancient Egypt, women—much like men—went about practically naked. To provide even the barest coverage, they often wore simple linen tunics. And rightly so! Given the scorching heat of the desert, I would be astonished if they had opted for wool sweaters instead. Yet, even in that era, there is evidence of bands used to support the breasts—essentially the ancestor of the modern bra. However, these bands were purely functional; they were often worn for protection during manual labor or for postpartum care, and they had absolutely nothing to do with seduction. In this context, "linen" (in the sense of modern lingerie) held no aesthetic significance whatsoever; it was merely a material worn against the skin to provide protection against the intense rays of the sun and to support the breasts for the sake of pure comfort.

Seduction, however, was an affair involving the entire body—a total sensory experience. With cones of scented fat melting into their hair, magnetic gazes accentuated by kohl, and tunics made of *byssus* linen so sheer they were dubbed "woven air" (leaving the female form clearly on display), beauty was not a secret to be concealed, but rather a hymn to joy and pleasure—one proudly put on display.

In Greece and Rome?

In Greece, linen was not just a fabric; it was a status symbol. If wool was for peasants, linen was for those who wanted to stand out. Greek women used it to create the strophion (the ancestor of the bra) and to make tunics so thin (like the legendary linen of Amorgos) that, once wet or oiled, they became practically transparent. It was the first real step toward the idea of underwear that doesn't serve to cover but to enhance the body with elegance.

Eroticism, however, followed other paths. If you were a wife, you had to hide behind a thousand layers of linen, but if you were a hetaira (the influencers of the time), seduction was your job: scented oils, very smooth skin, and tunics that "accidentally" opened at the right moment. They had practically invented the marketing of desire without the need for Instagram.

In Rome, they walked the same path as ancient Egyptians. Men and women didn't just use linen but also silk. Linen, however, was the protagonist of "technical" garments: Roman women used it in the form of a band, wrapped around the torso to contain shapes during physical activity or under tunics (the strophium or mamillare). Or it was a sort of rudimentary loincloth or short used as basic protection (the subligaculum).

Don't get me wrong: in Rome, women loved to seduce, but they did it through the transparencies of silk tunics (the famous "Coan garments"), which were so thin they were called "woven clouds." So, while it's true that a specific "lingerie set" did not yet exist, the concept of "see-through" via outer clothing already existed, which is somewhat the soul of today's lingerie: that ability to cover without really covering. Let’s be honest: with women walking around wearing semi-transparent clothes, men certainly didn't need them to wear lingerie. The boys were already being provoked in the streets of Rome all day long!

However, from these three great kingdoms, there is no trace of women using lingerie to seduce in the strict sense of the term. They used linen to create daily garments that "aroused men," but they were not items designed exclusively for sexual intercourse. A woman in Egypt and Greece used the linen robe to go shopping and work, but thanks to her curves and the way she wore it, she managed to release an eroticism that today we would define as irresistible.

The Middle Ages and the Renaissance: The Birth of Structure.

From here, until the 20th century, any linen garment for "erotic" purposes would be forgotten by humanity.

During the Middle Ages, a period of great coverage in female fashion, the linen garment had no erotic or beauty purpose but pure practicality. As much as those thousand years were a relatively progressive period, despite what the world says, we are still in a period where the Church ruled in a controversial way: on one hand, a woman could be a prostitute with the "blessing of the Church," which often profited from it, but on the other hand, she had to cover up because the female body was "mud."

In this context, linen was the king of undergarments. We are talking about the chemise: a long, simple robe worn directly on the skin. Its purpose? To protect heavy and expensive outer clothes from sweat and skin oils. It was, to all intents and purposes, the ancestor of our undershirt, with the difference that at the time it was made exclusively of linen because it was the only fiber that withstood vigorous washing and guaranteed a minimum of hygiene... in a period where heavy clothes, especially in summer, led to intense sweating.

In the Middle Ages, eroticism was a game of patience. No thongs or wild transparencies: desire passed through loose lace, a bare nape, or that small edge of white chemise peeking out from the dress. The linen chemise was the last border before naked skin; touching it or receiving a piece of it as a gift was worth more than a thousand words. It was an era of "secrets" under layers of wool, where the male imagination had to work overtime to overcome the Church's prohibitions.

With the Renaissance, we enter a period of true aesthetic barbarities, especially against women, and fashion is the overwhelming proof. In this century, linen drastically changes function: it is no longer just the comfortable and soft medieval chemise, but becomes a fundamental piece of an instrument of torture. I’m talking about the first stayed bodices.

The men of the time were so obsessed with the perfection of geometric proportions that a woman's body absolutely had to bend to them. Renaissance fashion dictated that a woman should be straight and rigid like a tree trunk. To achieve this conical and linear silhouette, heavily reinforced linen bodices were created.

The result was extremely painful: whalebone or even metal stays were used, inserted into sturdy linen linings, to force the body into the shape desired by aristocratic fashion. In practice, naturalness was sacrificed on the altar of an abstract and punitive geometry. If we look at freedom of movement, the Renaissance, for women, really sucked.

In such a rigid era, eroticism was all based on contrast. On one side was the armor of the bodice that made the woman almost an unapproachable statue; on the other, precisely by contrast, the whiteness of the skin and the richness of the external fabrics were emphasized. Eroticism was in the shapes, not the content.

The Victorian Era: The Apogee of the Corset.

Let’s skip ahead a few centuries and arrive at the 1800s. The 19th century is the era of the hourglass corset: the silhouette had to show a very narrow waist and wide hips. Do you remember the scene in Pirates of the Caribbean where Elizabeth Swann is literally "squeezed" while dressing? Well, that linen corset clearly shows how that garment was an asphyxiating torture. It was no coincidence that women always carried a fan with them: it was used to avoid fainting from lack of oxygen.

That corset was so inhuman that even men—the same ones who had imposed this standard of beauty—started to have doubts. Doctors of the time believed that such an extreme corset could cause permanent damage to internal organs and serious respiratory problems. If the Renaissance was bad, here we are at the borders of systematic attempted murder in the name of aesthetics.

If at the top it tightened to the point of suffocation, at the bottom it expanded immensely. In this period, skirts became larger and heavier, reaching weights of tens of kilograms due to the layering of fabrics. It was then that the cage crinoline was invented: that light steel structure that looks like a birdcage. It is the classic bell shape we see in period movies. Thanks to this "armor," the weight was supported and the shapes maintained. Here too, linen did not disappear: the metal cage was often covered or connected by linen bands to prevent the iron stays from tearing the clothes or injuring the woman. In short, linen was the "glue" that held together the crazy architecture of 19th-century fashion.

Eroticism in the 1800s was a matter for engineers of desire. The more the woman was caged in meters of linen and steel hoops, the more every little opening became forbidden and "hot." It is the period of ankle fetishism: a centimeter of skin shown while stepping down from a carriage was enough to trigger incredible fantasies. Eroticism was not in what was seen but in what was imagined to be under all those layers of fabric.

However, something was changing. Around the middle of the 19th century, some specialized Parisian shops began to sell undergarments with lace, embroidery, and silk, calling them "lingerie." They didn't do it just to recall linen, but to elevate these items to a category of luxury superior to coarse daily "laundry." This marked the change in the meaning of the word: "lingerie" became refined underwear, distinct from common laundry. But how is it possible that women covered themselves so much, yet spent fortunes on something no one would ever see?

It’s not a contradiction; it’s a strategy. Late 19th-century fashion worked like a luxury gift box: on the outside, a huge, austere box, which manifested the man's social power; inside, a precious and refined content that only the woman and her partner could know. This contrast transformed the woman from a "domestic object" to a "mystery to be revealed." Modern lingerie was born right here: at the moment one realizes that what is under the armor is much more powerful than what is above it.

The 20th Century: Liberation and Innovation.

The transition from the 1800s to the 1900s is not just a change of century; it’s a change of mentality: the woman stops being a "monument" to be decorated and returns to being a body that moves, works, and finally, breathes.

The 20th century marks the true revolution, effectively establishing the birth of modern lingerie: the one in which linen (and then new fibers) is used to seduce and is no longer just for pure practicality.

Between 1910 and 1920, legendary figures like Paul Poiret and Coco Chanel contributed to giving the final blow to the rigid corset, finally freeing the female torso from whalebone stays. In this decade, the date to mark in red on the calendar is 1914, when Mary Phelps Jacob patented the first modern bra, made almost as a game with two silk handkerchiefs and some ribbon. Although we were still far from the sets we see in shops today, that was the "giant leap" for female humanity: for the first time, underwear was no longer a cage but a light support.

In the 20s, seduction officially takes the stage. Goodbye, corsets and fainting: eroticism becomes dynamic. Women shorten their skirts, cut their hair, and invent the "tubular" silhouette. Lingerie becomes a VISIBLE silk slip that glides over the body instead of squeezing it. One no longer seduces by standing still like a statue and hiding one's body, but by dancing the Charleston with a cigarette between the fingers and pearls flying, enhancing one's shapes for what they are.

It was the seduction of freedom. For the first time in history, laundry transitions from something erotic but invisible to something sensual and well in view. Furthermore, they say goodbye to linen in favor of new materials like rayon while keeping the name "lingerie." It is here that this word transcends space and time, definitively becoming synonymous with female sensuality.

Between the 30s and 40s, and more precisely in 1938, a chemical revolution occurred that changed everything: Nylon was invented. The invention of this synthetic fabric radically transformed the market, making underwear more resistant, elastic, and, above all, accessible to all social classes. From this moment on, every woman had the freedom to manifest her beauty and experiment with her "erotic arsenal."

However, glamour was short-lived. With the outbreak of World War II, lingerie returned to being purely practical. It was not a time for seduction, but for survival: resources were scarce, Nylon was requisitioned to manufacture parachutes, and women had to stick to substance.

Only in the post-war period, in that moment of euphoria and rebirth after dark years, did glamour return dominantly to the scene thanks to Dior’s New Look. It is here that the female silhouette is celebrated again, paving the way for the explosion of sensuality in the following decades.

We arrive in the 50s, the era of Pin-ups and the "Bullet Bra." If you thought the torture was over, you were wrong: the bullet bra and elastic girdles were used to create that hourglass silhouette made immortal by Hollywood stars. They were no longer looking for the comfort of the 20s, but an "explosive" sensuality. It is the period when lingerie becomes an icon: stockings with the seam, visible garter belts, and that hint of mischief that transformed every woman into a potential Marilyn. Here, linen is now a distant memory: the kingdom belongs to nylon and exhibited desire.

During the 60s and 70s, the bra underwent a public trial. Thanks to the push of feminism, it became for many a symbol of patriarchal oppression. At the time, commercial models were still bulky and the product of a mentality that wanted to "box up" the female body into standard shapes that men found "sexy."

The response of liberation movements was radical: the "No-Bra Look" was born. Visionary designers like Rudi Gernreich began to design models in transparent nylon, without padding or underwires, which followed the natural movement of the body instead of punishing it. These were years of breakage, where transparency became a flag of power: the woman reclaimed the possibility of showing her beauty without "censorship" or corrective structures. Lingerie no longer had to create a shape, but celebrate the one that was already there. In this climate of rebellion, eroticism shifted from artificial perfection to absolute naturalness, marking the definitive end of the era of "armor-women."

In the 80s and 90s, we finally witness the birth of lingerie as we know it today. It is the era of "Underwear as Outerwear": thanks to icons like Madonna, the corset stops being a hidden secret to become a symbol of power and provocation exhibited on stage, leading men to cry scandal and shame, while the female world was definitively emancipating itself from the viewpoint of intimate fashion.

From that moment, a multi-million dollar business was effectively created that many fashion companies embraced. Iconic brands transformed underwear into a global entertainment event. The Victoria’s Secret "Angels" shows were for years the peak of the spectacle, combining fashion with live performances by artists like Harry Styles, Justin Bieber, Taylor Swift, and Selena Gomez. Lingerie became a cultural phenomenon capable of stopping the world and taking away the breath of the male world which, by this point, had accepted the thing willingly and is still adoring this marvel today.

Today, however, the trend has changed again, focusing on inclusivity and comfort. The focus has shifted to every type of physicality: the concept of "perfection" of past years has been surpassed by the idea that any woman has the right to feel sexy in her own curves without sacrificing comfort. We have passed from the torture of stiff linen to the freedom of an invisible second skin.

Modern Lingerie.

If the history was a long process to write and digest, it was just dates and events to put together and blend. In this chapter, we witness madness. Because the more I wrote this chapter, the more I realized that women can be "mentally evil" when it comes to aesthetics. A man has only one "sexy" piece of underwear: briefs. For a woman, it is not like that at all.

Let’s start with materials. In the past, lingerie was made of linen. Now it is made with refined fabrics like silk, lace, satin, tulle, chiffon, and elaborate embroidery. There is almost a manic attention to aesthetics. The cuts are designed to enhance shapes, play with transparencies, or create a particular silhouette. And much care is given to highlighting detail through the presence of bows, ribbons, gold metal inserts, or applications that transform the garment into a luxury accessory. A man has white cotton briefs with the same shape for all men, all over the world.

The world of lingerie is not only varied in materials but also in care, shapes, and details. It is also extremely vast in the conception of what lingerie is. The entire universe of female seductive underwear is divided into two large families: daytime lingerie and nighttime lingerie. Forget the old concept of body linen and household linen. We have gone far beyond! Read on, because I got a headache and got lost towards the end due to too much information.

Daytime Lingerie.

Let’s start with what I know: the classic balconette or triangle bra. From here, I enter unexplored territories. We have bralettes, which are bras without underwire and often without padding, usually in lace or cotton. We continue with the corset, a structured garment with rigid stays (once whalebone, today metal or plastic) and strings on the back. It serves to visibly reduce the waist circumference and straighten the posture. Finally, we have the bustier (or bustino), which is shorter than a corset, usually reaching the waist or just above. Its purpose is to lift the breasts and define the torso, often with flexible stays. I don't know about you, but I’m already lost. Just understanding the difference between a corset and a bustier was a drama. The corset is the one from movies, a true cage of steel and linen made to crush you and change your physical features. The bustier, instead, is its gentler descendant: it just wants to make you beautiful, lift where it needs to lift, and let you enjoy the evening without ending up in the emergency room for lack of oxygen. The first is punitive architecture; the second is pure design of seduction.

Then we have one-piece garments like the body (bodysuit), which combines a bra and panties. It can be shaping (shapewear) or purely decorative with transparencies and lace.

We have the Teddy, very similar to the body but softer and looser, often in silk or satin, designed to be worn as nightwear or loungewear.

Finally, the Guêpière, which I didn't even know existed as a word, let alone as a type of lingerie. The Guêpière is a mix between a bustier and a garter belt. It is a very structured garment that models the waist and hips, already including the hooks for the stockings. Here we are at unintentional comedy. I wrote this part without understanding anything. It took me about an hour to understand the difference.

If you want to stay comfortable and tidy, put on a body. If you want to feel light and romantic while at home, choose a teddy. But if the goal is to transform yourself into a diva of yesteryear and leave whoever looks at you breathless, then your choice must be the Guêpière: the architecture of seduction that combines bra, bustier, and stockings into a single, lethal instrument of charm.

Nighttime lingerie.

Let’s start with the most famous piece of nighttime lingerie, the Baby-doll. This one even I knew. It is a very short and flared nightgown, which usually starts from under the breasts and falls softly over the hips. It is often sold together with matching panties.

Then we move to the sottoveste (Slip dress), which is a timeless classic in silk or satin. It can be short or long and in recent years it has become a fashion item to wear even outside the house. There are many women who use this dress for gala evenings.

We then finish with another unknown French word to me, like the negligé. What on earth could it be? It is a light and transparent dressing gown, often decorated with feathers or lace, to be worn over lingerie or a nightgown.

Accessories.

In coordination with these undergarments, there are then the accessories. We are frankly bordering on the ridiculous when it comes to complexity.

In the first place, we have Reggicalze (Garter belts), which is a belt that fastens at the waist (or on the hips) equipped with four or more elastic straps to support classic stockings. We have the giarrettiera (garter), an elastic lace ring to be worn on the thigh. From what I’ve understood, today it has an almost exclusively aesthetic function or is linked to traditions (like in weddings), because with stay-up stockings, the garter isn't needed. And finally, we have the Sospensorio (Jockstrap) and Perizoma (Thong) which are variants of panties reduced to the minimum to eliminate lines under clothes or for purely aesthetic purposes.

Psychological and Social Function.

But after this whole post, for what reason is lingerie used? The function of lingerie goes far beyond simple "covering." Also because, honestly, it doesn't cover much. I’m not complaining; on the contrary, however, if one uses lingerie to cover their "hidden graces," it’s not exactly a great move. Lingerie is a silent language that communicates both with ourselves and with the outside world, intertwining self-perception and cultural norms.

On an individual level, lingerie acts as a powerful tool for self-perception. There is a psychological phenomenon called enclothed cognition, according to which what we wear influences our mental state. If for men it’s a tuxedo or a suit and tie, for women it’s also lingerie.

Wearing a matching or high-quality set, even if no one sees it, can make a person feel more confident, professional, or attractive (reaching that empowerment that women desire so much). Although it is a personal secret, lingerie changes posture and mental attitude.

Choosing underwear with care is often an act of "self-care." It means dedicating attention to a part of the body that belongs only to us, separating domestic comfort from one's aesthetic identity.

And finally, in stressful situations (like a job interview or an important event), lingerie can act as "invisible armor," offering a sense of control and order that starts from the layer closest to the skin, also allowing a certain breathability and therefore controlled sweating, resulting in a good scent.

Socially, lingerie has always been an indicator of how society sees the woman and her role.

Historically, elaborate lingerie was a hallmark of wealth. Handmade lace and silk were reserved for those who didn't have to perform heavy physical labor. Today, luxury brands continue to signal a certain economic and cultural status. It’s hard to see a housewife in lingerie, but a Hollywood diva is very likely to have a piece for every mood.

In recent years, lingerie has become the battlefield for body positivity. If before the standards were rigid and imposed (think of corsets or extreme push-up bras), today society pushes toward inclusivity. Seeing models for every physicality has changed the social message: lingerie no longer serves to "correct" the body, but to celebrate it.

The achievement that, in my opinion, is the most important is that lingerie has played a key role in the liberation of customs. The transition from obsessively hiding every inch of skin to deliberately showing a bra or a bodysuit under a shirt reflects a more open society, where the woman claims the right to manage her own sensuality autonomously.

Small Reflections.

If at the beginning I thought lingerie was just "that sexy stuff from the movies," now I look at these garments with a different eye. I’ve understood that lingerie is a fascinating paradox: it is invisible to others but powerful for the wearer. It is the silk armor that a woman decides to put on not to please us men (or rather, not just for that), but to look in the mirror and say to herself, "Today I feel invincible."

From that coarse "lingerie" that served only to block sweat, we have arrived at an aesthetic art that celebrates the body in every form, without constraints or plastic whalebones taking the breath away. And if this isn't progress, honestly, I don't know what is.

So, whether it’s a baby-doll for sleeping, a bodysuit under a jacket for an interview, or a guêpière for a special evening, lingerie remains the manifesto of conscious sensuality.

And us men? Well, we stay here, mouths agape, grateful that linen has become so damn interesting.

M.