To the editors at the Daily Mail,
Why have you got to be such jerks? For real.
We’ve had this conversation once before when you had a go at Keira Maguire for not wearing make up while grocery shopping, but today you’ve taken things to a whole new level. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure you could get much lower.
This morning I woke up hung over; so hung over that I was fairly certain a large elephant in a tutu was standing next to my bed playing the cymbals.
To ease my wounded soul, I lay in the dark and began my morning peruse of Facebook when I saw heap of posts talking about your story about Samantha Armytage wearing granny pants. I was a bit f’ing confused as to what was going on and I thought perhaps I was still asleep and having a weird frozen cocktail induced nightmare.
I clicked on your story thinking Sam must have posed for a photo shoot wearing some spectacular Nancy Gatz Fancy Pants Spanx Suck Me In style undies that come right up to her boobies (I’ve got a pair, they’re fantastic) or that she’d been made the new face of Bonds or Calvin Klein.
Why else would anyone gives two hoots what kind of underpants she’s wearing?
I know I sure don’t; most of the time I don’t even care what kind of underpants I am wearing. Sometimes I can’t be bothered wearing pants at all (hello, pants off Friday).
Besides, from what I could see, they’re not even granny pants. How do I know this, because I’ve seen my granny’s washing and she doesn’t wear pants like that.
In fact, dare I say it, they were normal briefs. That’s right, apparently it’s breaking news that Samantha Armytage decided to wear undies to go shopping in Bondi.
F*ck me.
Whether she’s partial to big pants, small pants, lace pants, pants with Kermit skiing on them (that could just be me…) or even no pants, unless she’s going for the full Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct move on morning television, THIS IS NOT NEWS.
So, Daily Mail and Max Margan, piss off with your click bait headlines (I mean seriously, “dare to bare” and “granny panties” is quite the oxymoron) and bugger off with the bullshit stories that seem hell-bent on making the gorgeous women of Australia feel inferior, insecure and like we are letting someone down if we don’t look like a Victoria’s Secret model ALL THE TIME.
It’s 2016, surely there are many, many better things to discuss (even celebrity gossip wise) than Sam’s choice of arse coverage? So stop sending your creepy photographers to stand across the road trying to stalk the poor woman.
How about you get the f*ck out of our underwear drawers and give us some proper news because we don’t care that she bought some fish, is wearing undies or is or is not dating half of Channel Seven.
From Brooke (and I’m pretty sure half the women in Australia)
PS. Don’t ever use the word ‘panties’ again. Ewww.
PPS. I know these aren’t really ‘granny pants’, but they’re the biggest pants I had, and if by chance you would like to get into my pants, you can buy yourself three pairs for $12 at Kmart. Ha!
