I have one of those old fashioned mothers that had tons of rules when I was a kid. Now that I am a mother myself, most of these rules make quasi-sense to me and although I am not quite as rigid in my mothering as she was, I do understand where she was coming from- more or less.

My mother definitely had a thing about underwear, and although as a youngster my choices were practical, cotton and not at all fun, they absolutely had to be clean and hole-free. Once an elastic waistband popped out of place or an inconvenient tear would occur, those undies would mysteriously disappear from the rotation. My mom was like that, and even if the guilty party was my favorite Barbie-embossed-pink pair, she had little regard for my feelings. Her thoughts were that you never know when something could happen (usually she mentioned being hit by a car) and you might be whisked away in an ambulance. God forbid should emergency personnel see my ripped, torn or stained kid underwear. Not on her watch, that wasn’t going to happen.

Recently I was watching the US Open and once again was wide-eyed at Venus Williams outfit. It’s hard to be shocked by Venus’ outrageous tennis apparel anymore. In fact, after a recent win, I saw her do a literal happy dance around center court. Unfortunately for Venus, her ill-fitting dress was so tight that it had crept its way up over her hind end and what was supposed to be a dress, now looked more like a shirt. There she was, on center court at the US Open, dancing around in her underwear.

Maybe mom was right. Lingerie faux pas do seem to happen, often at the most inconvenient times. I remember one unfortunate time I was wearing a button front sweater that was very soft and silky. Being a little on the busty side, I am familiar with the perils of this type of sweater, but unfortunately I didn’t notice that a button had come undone and I was over-exposing my fellow co-workers. It wasn’t until I had been walking around with uber-cleavage for about an hour that I made the embarrassing discovery. I was mortified, but being my mother’s girl had been duly prepared for this type of disaster. I had on a very, very pretty bra. Hey—it was completely unintentional flashing, but my mother would have been proud (I think) of my preparedness.

Obviously Venus had some of the same schooling that I had from her dear madre. As her dress rode up…and up…and up…I noticed her underwear were covered in gems and sparkles and were obviously and conveniently bedazzled. Was this a lingerie faux pas? I’m actually thinking this mistake looked pretty intentional. Even still, I will applaud her for obeying her mother. Xo J.