Okay, there's used undies and used undies. There's "I'm not wearing panties" and then there's "period underwear." Anyone who has worked sorting donations at a thrift store has particularly strong feelings on the subject of used underwear. Especially dirty used underwear. (And while we're at it, how about not throwing in dirty disposable diapers? Whoever succeeded me at Help the Aged, Camden Town will thank you.) Even clean old underthings though are a relative proposition: grayed and frayed, with stained gossets and stretched elastics. Someone can use them, the thinking might go - but how about taking that generous impulse and translating it into the minimal expense of a three-pack of new jockeys?

We've all held onto undies past their prime. In my case, I find it very hard to throw out something that was at one time expensive and still feels "special" - especially if the matching bra is still operational. Throwing such things out can be hard (a few drinks helps) and donation may seem a viable alternative, but understand what was for you a romantic splurge, a compendium of daintiness and all things pretty and adult, is in fact a ratty scrap of synthetic lace now missing its bow. Launder and save those sets with maximum sentimental value and let the rest go. Into the trash. Then dump coffee grounds on them just in case you're tempted come laundry day.

There's the other side of the question: do people buy them? That's what Pleticha set out to discover. And she was on the other side of the dirty-drawers divide: Think less saggy jockeys than Sam Baker-Anthony-Michael-Hall in Sixteen Candles (recently reprised on Glee): a sexy lady's used undies are the stuff of fetish, right?

One of the girls [a friend] met at that party sold her panties on the site for $200 a pair. I'd heard rumors about this kind of thing for years, but here was proof it was possible. Two-hundred bucks for underwear? I wasn't up for posing in my panties, but I could totally do that! Unlike sex for money, selling used underwear didn't feel inherently sleazy or immoral. And sure, a guy buying panties online might seem a little off, but in the words of my friend the Craigslist gigolo, "Just because a guy's a panty-sniffer doesn't make him a bad person." After years of flirting with the idea, it was time for me to find out: can a girl make easy money off her dirty laundry? And how much money are we talking?

So she posts a Craigslist ad.

"I'm a college girl who just started school in the city and really need some cash for books and stuff. I have a bunch of panties I don't need any more - some are super-cute, some are kind of old! It's $25 for the not-so-nice pairs, but I have some more expensive lacy stuff too. Serious inquiries only please!"

Instead, dudes want head-shots and extras. Not shocking, maybe.

This was the sketchiness I was hoping to avoid, but I was desperate for a sale. I had posted my first ad nearly a week ago, my asking price had dropped from $100 to $40, but still no takers. I didn't like this kind of bartering. Not only do I suck at negotiating, but it was making me feel like a whore after all. I'd envisioned a wallet full of Benjamins and a drawer of new panties. I hadn't envisioned myself - and I'm cringing as I write this - making extravagant promises about how "juicy" my panties were. I was selling myself. It felt gross. I got very close to forgetting the whole thing.

She ultimately sells a few pair, but isn't sure the hassle is worth the money.

I still don't have a problem with the idea of selling my panties - if it were just that. But it's not. It's teasing and marketing myself, and ignoring upsetting propositions in the name of a buck. The e-mails are still coming in as my last Craigslist post is set to expire, but they're going unanswered. From here on out, I'll just have to do my laundry.

Well, I guess we know who buys those old panties at the SalVa! And, when you think of it that way, maybe it sort of is an act of charity? It's also maybe why only the granny-panties are left. Ew.

I Did It For Science: Selling Panties On Craigslist

According to Ankowski, "The patch actually delivered much higher doses of estrogen than the pill; Johnson & Johnson failed to reveal this to the public for six years. At least fifty deaths have been attributed to the patch because of this, with thousands more women reporting alarming symptoms." Johnson & Johnson have already spent $68.7 million settling lawsuits from women who suffered blood clots, heart attacks and strokes after using the patch, and Feministing notes, there is evidence that Johnson & Johnson hid documents that showed the patch released more estrogen than originally thought.

That's patently terrifying! The only positive result of Ankowski's experience with the patch is that her boobs got enormous, which seems like a pretty tiny benefit when you're puking your guts out and maybe dying because of pharmaceutical phibs. I've always hated birth control and only used condoms, and I seem to be among the minority. BCP makes me moody and bloated and distinctly unlike myself. I finally got a diaphragm, but only because I asked for it. In my experience, doctors have been reticent to mention options that are not the tried-and-true birth control pills, so if you're someone who experiences massive side effects, be sure to do all your research before committing.

Rough Patch [Nerve]
Johnson & Johnson Spends Millions Settling Ortho Evra Lawsuits [Feministing]

Earlier: Sarah Haskins Wishes You Happy Period Control

The least stereotypical women that Nerve surveyed? "Granola Sunshine," a bisexual woman who tends to go dutch on her dates and the "Long-Distance Cougar" who, despite making only $25,000 a year, spent $115 on a hotel room to meet her 22-year-old lover, while he supplied the rubbers. But both those women are sort of stereotypical in not hewing to stereotypes, so maybe it doesn't count. Even crunchy "Granola Sunshine" spent "$30 for face products from The Body Shop, cooling avocado washes and toners; trying to look good and keep my skin young," while the men surveyed spent almost zero on grooming themselves. Both the single straight men in the survey, "Coffee Yupster" and the "Dude" spent a lot of money wooing women, whether it be on meals out or memberships to dating sites.

The saddest lady, though, was definitely "Mom of Two," who is overworked and under-laid. "I don't have much to tell you, sadly. I got a $25 bikini wax, and I think I got to use it all of once," she tells Nerve. "A few days later, she bought $240 worth of new clothes 'in order to keep my husband interested and attracted.' Later that week, she got a free pedicure at a promotional event: 'I chose a saucy red called 'Kiss the Cook,' to which my husband responded, 'I prefer it when you paint your toes pink or nude.'" Um, your husband sounds like sort of a dick? You went out of your way to dress up and all he can do is criticize your toenail choices?

[Image via Charles Phoenix]

Everyone Pays For Sex [Nerve]

Carver writes:

I picked up his dry cleaning, made his travel arrangements, kept things from him to safeguard his peace of mind. When he'd forget things he'd said or done, I didn't say, "Hey, you're having blackouts." I didn't even think it. I simply would recount for him what had happened, who said what to whom, so he could get the night straight in his mind. I was holding memories for him.

Strange Currencies [Nerve]
Looking for love? Pony up the cash [MSNBC]