People say that The Hindu is stodgy and conservative, but this is not true. Nowadays, they do stories on organic underwear. This immediately reminded me of edible underwear. One of my acquaintances once left his job with the intention of starting an edible underwear business. I’ve been too scared to ask what happened next. Having done some research, I now see that he was entering a booming industry.
Contrary to what you may think, edible underwear was not invented by the patriarchy as yet another method to objectify women. It was invented in 1975 by two young men in America, the land of the brave and the free. They were intoxicated at the time. One of them would often say, ‘Eat my shorts!’ ‘Why don’t I make shorts you can actually eat’, thought his friend, in a flash of inspiration. And he did, creating them from the edible film originally used to wrap turkeys in supermarkets, which he purchased in bulk. Candypants was launched soon after, and almost immediately began pulling in over $150,000 a month.
The pair that I first saw on Amazon was French vanilla flavoured. You can also get them in watermelon, peach, and obviously, passion fruit. You are advised to tie strings loosely to avoid breakage, and to consume after first use. Many new brands have entered the market over the years, including Candy Strings, Gummy Undies and, my personal favourite, Tasty Pasties. Non-vegetarian versions are also available, in the form of beef jerky edible meat underwear. Finally, in 2016, we were presented with edible underwear for vegans, produced by ethical clothing manufacturer Pact Apparel. Their products are made from a plant-based formula that includes avocados, coconut fibre and dehydrated bananas. Penny pinchers and fetishists can even buy second-hand edible underwear on eBay, ‘worn only once’.
Should readers of The Hindu be buying these products? I read many reviews to give you an informed opinion. A lady from Vanity Fair was very thorough. She tested five products, providing detailed tasting notes on each. Her descriptions were vivid. “At first lick,” she writes, “you get a sharp tart flavour, which is immediately overshadowed by a pasty stickiness that’s kind of like wet rice paper. The more you lick it, the more it breaks apart and adheres to your skin like papier mâché.” She ultimately recommends Candy Strings, which are less sticky compared to the others. At Complex magazine, which is clearly destined for greatness, no less than 10 editorial team members tried the products, delivering verdicts such as “I’m really unhappy”, “Tastes like garbage”, “The texture is foul”, “I feel like I’m eating a balloon”, “I don’t want to open my mouth any more”, and “It’s stuck to my face!” On the whole, I would say we should stick with the Vanity Fair recommendation, but just remember, each candy string contains 100 grams of sugar and 565 calories, so it’s not a clean win.
In Shovon Chowdhury’s most recent novel, Murder With Bengali Characteristics , the Chinese Governor of Bengal is fond of rare novelty sex items
