I’ve been guilty of repetitively body slamming beige lingerie into a sobbing mess on the wrestling wring of feminine attire over the years. If you’re even a semi regular reader, you’ll already be aware of my distaste for beige. It burns as an eternal fire fanned by the fact that almost every piece of lingerie I find comes in a permutation of beige usually disguised by a euphemism such as ‘Damask’ or ‘Cafe Au Lait’ or ‘Jersey Cow’

