Review: Knix leak-proof lingerie
Until relatively recently, if a woman desired special undergarments for any type of lady leakage, she was forced to shuffle into her local drugstore and purchase — in front of God and everyone — an unwieldy box of what amounted to puffy adult diapers from an aisle with INCONTINENCE emblazoned overhead. She would then have to go home, pull said undergarments up to her armpits, and attempt to stuff the fluff into her faux leather leggings.
There was room for improvement here.
Thankfully, it’s a new decade, and it feels like there’s another company cropping up every week to rid us of the scarlet “I” with comfortable, secure, and dare I say chic, underthings. I, for one, am here for it.
Some background: I’m a mom of two, the youngest of whom weighed 10.5 lbs. at (natural) birth. So… let’s just say this pelvic floor ain’t what it used to be. While I’m proud to still possess the bulk of my pubococcygeus control, there’s nary a trampoline, hilarious conversation, or forceful cough I completely trust, and that’s just the truth. Pantyliners feel like overkill, and besides, there’s a good chance one will end up unwittingly stuck to the bottom of my shoe.
Could leak-proof panties be the way, I wonder? I ordered a pair of Knix to find out. Here are my thoughts.
Getting the goods
Navigating knix.com was easy enough, and I found their messaging simple and compelling. Whereas competitors such as Thinx have found their niche as period panties, Knix’s leak-proof line is marketed as underwear that holds up against periods, pee, and sweat. They also boast more heavy-duty offerings for postpartum, as well as a healthy selection of bras and tanks.
BONUS: The women featured on the site are actual humans, with stretch marks and cellulite and the occasional diastasis recti. I found it especially heartening.
I ordered a pair of Leakproof Boyshorts (in a delightful peach and mauve leopard print, if you must know) for $24.61 after tax. Shipping was $7, which seems like a bit of a racket, as it took a full week before I had the package in hand. A dollar a day just to get to me? Idk, but I’m willing to concede I may have been spoiled by Amazon.
First impressions
Upon opening the package, my initial thought was that the main event – the triple-layer material of the gusset that serves to contain any liquid – is impossibly thin. They essentially look and feel like regular ol’ seamless undies. There’s no way these could actually hold any meaningful amount of liquid, I thought to myself before tossing them into the machine for a quick pre-wash.
As I pulled the underwear on the next day, I first noticed how comfortable they were. And I don’t mean they were comfortable for what they are… they’re just plain comfortable. No shifting, riding up in the back, or rolling down in the front. I bought in for that reason alone, but eager to see how they performed.
Work and play
I chose a Monday for the wear test, for a few reasons. First, I had just finished up my period, so it would’ve been a just-in-case pantyliner day. I also had a full day of work lined up, followed by happy hour with some co-workers (read: funny with a chance of laugh-pee).
Throughout the day, I hit the restroom for occasional check-ins. I was fully prepared to be grossed out by my own normal bodily function, but with each Knix check I found limited evidence that any leaks had even occurred. It felt like voodoo, especially given how thin and unnoticeable the absorbent gusset is, and the comfort was truly unmatched.
Fast forward a few hours, when several members of our team convened patio-side on an unseasonably warm evening. Margaritas were flowing. Personal stories were shared. Hilarity ensued. There was one particular howl-inducing conversation centered on terrible liquor we drank in college that under normal circumstances would’ve surely sent me scurrying to the ladies’ room — but I felt a sense of security. All in all, Knix panties rocked my face off.
The verdict: Easy, peasy, safe to sneezy.
Here’s our link to try out Knix. It gets you a discount but doesn’t add anything to your costs.
By day, Katy is a brand marketing leader, while at home her husband and two sons, Wiley and Hill, call her “mama.” Hailing from middle Georgia, today Katy, in her free time, chairs a food insecurity non-profit. If you run into her at an Atlanta bar, she’ll take the Whistle Pig rye or the Loire Valley chenin blanc, thank you.