'Can shapewear be more desirable than a G-string?'

'I'm just going to go commando'

- KATHY LETTE

I was running up the escalator at Piccadilly Circus when a gust of wind lifted my skirt sky-high. It gave a whole new meaning to Air on the G string. Poor old Bach would have been turning in his grave. Luckily my girlfriend was right behind me.

'I can't believe you still wear G-strings,' she scolded, tugging down my hem. She then advised me quite sternly that it was time for more sturdy nana knickers.

I've worn G-strings since the 70s. Yes, that bit of elasticated dental floss sometimes chews at my nether regions until it feels as though I'm flossing my fallopian tubes. But that flash of thong peeking over the top of my jeans as I bend over has always felt sexy and empowering, emblematic of my liberated, independent status - a little lacy badge of honour.

Well, not any more. G-string sales have plummeted. Apparently the gee is no longer a symbol of sophistication but reminiscent of Baywatch and Pirelli calendars. The thong has had its swansong. It's a fashion faux pas. But am I really ready for nana knickers? Surely brevity is the soul of lingerie?