I am tired of the wedge. You know the one—that specific, creeping discomfort that happens halfway through a commute on the MRT or while you’re trying to look professional in a Grab. We live in a country where the humidity is basically a physical entity trying to drown us, yet most of the underwear sold in our malls is either scratchy lace that feels like steel wool or ‘seamless’ polyester that turns into a swamp by noon.
I’ve spent the last two years on a very expensive, very annoying quest to find the best women’s underwear brands in the Philippines. I’m not talking about the stuff you see in glossy ads with airbrushed models. I’m talking about the stuff that survives a Manila flood, a 12-hour shift, and the aggressive spinning cycle of a locally-made washing machine. I spent exactly 5,140 pesos testing 16 different pairs across 6 brands, and honestly? Most of them were a waste of money.
The Uniqlo Airism obsession needs to stop
I know people will disagree with me on this, and I might be wrong, but I actually think the Uniqlo Airism ultra seamless shorts are kind of terrible. There. I said it. Everyone treats them like the holy grail of underwear, but for me, they’re just… slippery. If you have any sort of curve to your hips or glutes, those things start migrating north or south within twenty minutes of walking.
What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently. They are great for the first three washes. Then, the edges start to curl like a dried-up lumpia wrapper. And don’t even get me started on the ‘hygiene’ aspect of non-breathable synthetics in 34-degree weather. It’s a recipe for a trip to the OB-GYN. I’ve relegated my four pairs to the ‘only for laundry day’ pile.
Uniqlo is for people who don’t move.
That time my garter snapped in a Makati boardroom

This happened in 2019, at the PBCom Tower in Makati. I was giving a presentation to a group of logistics executives. I felt a distinct snap against my left hip. It wasn’t loud, but in my head, it sounded like a gunshot. My 150-peso ‘department store special’ had given up the ghost. For the next twenty minutes, I had to stand perfectly still, clenching my muscles to keep my underwear from sliding down to my ankles. I felt like a failure. I felt cheap.
That was the day I realized that ‘saving’ money on cheap packs of five is actually a tax on your dignity. Anyway, I survived the presentation, but I threw those undies in the trash in the building’s restroom and walked out commando. It was a low point.
The ‘Tita’ brands are actually right
After the Makati Disaster, I started looking at what my mom and aunts have been wearing for decades. We always make fun of Wacoal and Triumph for being ‘tita’ brands, but they are the only ones that actually understand engineering.
- Wacoal: Their cotton mid-rise briefs are tanks. I’ve had three pairs for over a year and the elastic hasn’t budged a millimeter. They cost about 400-600 PHP each, which feels like a lot, but the cost-per-wear is basically pennies at this point.
- Triumph: Good, but I find their sizing a bit elitist. If you’re anything above a medium, it feels like they’re trying to squeeze you into a sausage casing. I actively tell my friends to avoid their lace sets unless you enjoy feeling like you’re wearing a hairnet.
Wacoal is the GOAT of Philippine underwear. It is not sexy, but it is loyal.
Local brands that don’t actually itch
I have a very specific, probably unfair bias against Bench. I think their quality has plummeted since the early 2010s. I bought a three-pack of their cotton hipsters last month and the lace trim started fraying after the first wash. I’m not even kidding. I tracked the thread pull—it was 4cm long by the time I took it out of the dryer.
However, Avon is the dark horse here. I know, I know—the brochure brand. But their ‘Classic’ cotton panty lines are surprisingly resilient. I tested a pair against a high-end brand from Greenbelt, and the Avon one held its shape better after a 10-hour day of sitting and standing. They are cheap, they are accessible, and they don’t pretend to be something they aren’t.
Bench is a trap. Buy Avon instead.
The Shopee ‘Seamless’ lie
We’ve all seen them. The 25-peso seamless panties on Shopee with 50,000+ sold. I bought ten of them in a fit of late-night manic shopping. They are essentially disposable. They are made of a material that I am 90% sure is just recycled plastic bottles. They don’t absorb anything. In our climate, wearing these is like wrapping your nether regions in Glad Wrap.
I might be being too harsh, but I think selling these should be a crime. They contribute to so much waste because they last for maybe three weeks before the ‘glue’ holding the seams together just melts in the Manila heat.
What I’ve actually settled on
After all the testing (and the snapping garters), my drawer is now 70% Her Own Words. They’re a bit newer in the PH market (usually found in high-end department stores or online), and they are the only brand that has figured out how to do a bonded edge that doesn’t peel. It’s like they actually used a ruler and a human body to design them.
I also keep a few pairs of Marks & Spencer cotton high-legs for when I’m bloated. They are the only brand that doesn’t make me feel like a stuffed lechon when I’m on my period. They’re expensive—like, 1,200 PHP for a pack—but my sanity is worth more than that.
I used to think that as long as no one saw it, it didn’t matter what I wore underneath. I was completely wrong. The way you feel when your underwear is biting into your skin or sliding down your butt cheeks affects your entire mood. It makes you shorter with people. It ruins your focus.
Will I ever find the 100% perfect pair that feels like wearing nothing but also supports everything? I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t exist in a tropical country. But for now, I’m sticking with the boring, reliable stuff.
Go check your drawer. If it has holes or the elastic is wavy, just throw it away. You’re an adult. You deserve better than a 50-peso mistake.