The Underpants Conundrum

So, I have special underpants that I save just for ballet. I know, I know, it sounds stupid. And, if you want to be serious about it, like professionals and students who are headed for ballet stardom, then you don't wear any panties at all.
But... uh...
I don't know. I just wasn't born to be a freeballer (or whatever the female equivalent would be. I can't think of anything that isn't SUPER RUDE). My mom was a supporter of the underpantless cause, but we were still trundled in to them as kids. And then a terrible thing happened when I was about 3 or 4. I was put in rhumba panties (you know, with the ruffles on the butt). And it was all over. I freakin' LOVED my rhumba panties. I was especially fond of a bright red pair. I wanted to wear those things constantly. Oh man. I've been an underpants fan ever since. I love fun underpants! So I never really go au naturel, or Scots proper if you prefer. And I am just not comfortable with clothes on without the panty barrier.
I could claim it was my professional wisdom speaking (underpants are a pretty important part of keeping your clothes clean and long-lasting. A bit of vajay goes a long way, as they say. Poetry unintentional. But run with it!) but to be honest I just feel a little squicky without my undies (you know. Stuff happens down there).
So anyhoo, I have these perfect underoos for dance class. They aren't specially made dance underpants (yes, they make those) or anything, they are just super sleek and snug and made with flatlocked elastic that is micro thin. So, no panty lines. They are awesome for skinny jeans and leggings, too. Cuz there ain't NO WAY I am wearing a thong. Okay, seriously? I hate to get sidetracked and all, but I have to rant a little about thongs. They are evil and wrong for anything other than personal sexy times. I used to work in a maternity store (it was HORRIBLE) and our hottest sellers were packs of maternity thongs. REALLY? Come on ladies. Be serious, now. What the what? Sheesh. Okay. I am done being sidetracked now.
The whole point was that I got these silly fabulous underpants at Costco about a year ago (which means they don't have them anymore, of course. That is how Costco rolls) and so I have to be super careful to sort them out of my laundry and pack them up with my leotards and tights so that I don't get caught half an hour before class running around the house like a crazy chicken shrieking "WHERE ARE MY UNDERWEAR?? YOU HAVE THEM DON'T YOU? I KNOW YOU DO! GIVE THEM BACK!"
Especially because I'm the only one home at the time...