I was standing in the Zara dressing room last Tuesday, trying on what I thought might be the perfect white button-down, when I caught sight of myself in that brutal fluorescent lighting and had one of those moments. You know the kind – where you suddenly become hyper-aware of something you’ve been ignoring. In this case, it was the fact that under my carefully curated outfit, I was wearing the most boring, practical underwear imaginable. Five-pack cotton knickers from M&S that I’d grabbed during a rushed shopping trip three months ago.
And here’s the thing – I felt absolutely no shame about it. Actually, I felt relief.
This realization hit me right after I’d spent twenty minutes scrolling through Instagram, looking at all these influencers in their matching lingerie sets, perfectly posed in their perfectly lit bedrooms. I mean, who actually lives like that? Who has time to coordinate their underwear with their mood board every single morning? More importantly, who wants to spend their entire day adjusting straps and dealing with lace that scratches?
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, especially after a conversation I had with my friend Sarah who works as a stylist for magazine shoots. We were grabbing coffee after she’d spent the day dressing a celebrity for some red carpet event, and somehow we got onto the topic of what we actually wear underneath all our clothes. She started laughing and said, “You know what’s funny? I’ll spend hours finding the perfect $300 designer top for a client, but I’m wearing £2.40 knickers from a five-pack.”
That got me curious. I started asking other women I know who work in fashion – editors, stylists, buyers, the kind of people who notice if your handbag is from last season – what they actually wear every day. Not what they post about on social media or what they save for special occasions, but what’s really in their underwear drawer when nobody’s looking.
The responses were… eye-opening, let’s say.
First off, almost everyone mentioned the M&S cotton high-leg knickers. Like, unprompted. I’d barely finish asking the question before they’d interrupt with “Oh my god, the five-packs, right?” These cost twelve quid for five pairs, which works out to about £2.40 each. Compare that to what you’d pay for a single pair from one of those trendy underwear brands that’s always advertising on podcasts.
My friend Emma, who’s a fashion editor at a magazine you’d definitely recognize, told me she orders them online in bulk. “I tried branching out last year,” she said. “Bought some fancy modal ones that cost £25 for a single pair. They felt lovely in the shop, but after two washes they’d lost their shape completely. Meanwhile, I’ve got M&S ones that I’ve had for two years that still look fine.”
The practical reasons make so much sense when you think about it. These knickers don’t show lines under clothes – crucial when you’re wearing anything fitted. They don’t ride up during the day. The cotton is soft enough that you’re not thinking about it every time you sit down. They wash well and don’t require special care. Basically, they let you forget you’re wearing underwear, which is surely the point of good underwear.
But it’s not just the basic cotton ones. The seamless Brazilian briefs from M&S got mentioned by literally every woman I asked. Eight pounds for three pairs, and they’re genuinely invisible under clothing. I’ve tried comparable styles from brands that charge three times as much, and honestly? Can’t tell the difference in terms of performance.
My friend Zoe, who works as a creative director for a fashion brand, swears by the microfiber shorts for summer. “They prevent thigh chafing without being obvious under dresses,” she explained. “I stock up every April and they see me through festival season, wedding season, all of it.” She’s got a point – there’s something particularly British about the need for anti-chafing underwear during our brief but humid summers.
Then there’s the bra situation. I expected more variety here, maybe some loyalty to specialist brands. But no – the M&S non-wired bralettes came up again and again. Twenty pounds each, which isn’t exactly cheap, but when you compare it to similar styles from trendy brands that can easily cost £50 or more, it starts looking like a bargain.
“I’ve got expensive bras for when I need serious support or a specific silhouette,” my friend Kate told me. “But for day-to-day? The M&S ones are comfortable enough to wear for twelve hours straight and they don’t make me feel like I’m trapped in my own clothing.”
The Boutique range bras got specific mentions too, particularly the balcony styles. Twenty-four pounds for an underwired bra that, according to several people, fits as well as department store brands costing £60 or more. I was skeptical about this until I tried one myself. The fit really is excellent – whoever’s doing their sizing and cup engineering knows what they’re about.
What surprised me most was hearing about the more technical pieces. The stick-on backless bras, for instance. Twenty-five pounds feels expensive until you realize you’ll use it for every backless dress or top you own for the next year or two. My friend Lisa, who’s constantly attending events where normal bras aren’t an option, said she’s never even considered buying this type of bra from anywhere else. “Why would I? These ones work perfectly and they’re not trying to charge me extra for packaging or marketing.”
The shapewear got mixed reviews – some people prefer dedicated brands like Spanx – but the lighter control pieces from M&S seem to hit a sweet spot between effectiveness and wearability. Thirty-five pounds for a slip that smooths everything without making you feel like you can’t breathe properly or sit down comfortably.
I think what’s happening here is that M&S has quietly become really good at solving practical problems without making a big fuss about it. They’re not trying to be sexy or trendy or Instagram-worthy. They’re just making underwear that works for real women living real lives. And it turns out that’s exactly what a lot of us actually want, even those of us who spend our days thinking about fashion.
There’s something refreshing about this, actually. In an industry that’s constantly pushing the next trend or must-have piece, finding a category where the best option is also the most straightforward option feels almost revolutionary. It’s like a little pocket of sanity in an otherwise quite mad world.
I’ve been doing a gradual replacement of my entire underwear drawer over the past few months, and I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s improved my daily quality of life. Not having to think about whether my underwear is going to be comfortable, or visible, or require special care has freed up mental energy for more important things. Like whether that white button-down I was trying on actually worked with my existing wardrobe (it didn’t).
The other thing that strikes me about all this is how it challenges some assumptions about what fashion people actually care about. From the outside, you might think we’re precious about every element of our appearance, that we’d never compromise on quality or design. But actually, what we care about most is things working properly. And sometimes the thing that works best is also the most practical and affordable option.
I’m not saying everyone should throw out their fancy lingerie and convert entirely to M&S basics. Special occasion underwear serves a purpose, and feeling luxurious or sexy or special absolutely has value. But for the everyday stuff – the underwear that sees you through meetings and commutes and grocery shopping and all the mundane realities of adult life – maybe the best choice is the one that just quietly does its job without demanding attention or special treatment.
So next time you’re in M&S and you see someone in an expensive coat carefully examining the five-pack knickers, don’t assume they’re settling or being cheap. They might just be someone who’s figured out that good design doesn’t always come with a designer price tag, and that sometimes the most fashionable choice is the one that actually makes sense.
Claire started Claire Wears to bridge the gap between fashion media and real life. Based in Chicago, she writes with honesty, humor, and a firm “no” to $300 “affordable” shoes. Expect practical advice, strong opinions, and the occasional rant about ridiculous trends.
