Okay. I'm normally a careful reader, but when I first saw this story, my imagination just took off. I thought the vicar was taking orders and actually buying the ladies their knickers. As an agnostic, this gave me a special thrill. ("Hey, vicar, could you pop over to Frederick's of Hollywood and get me some thongs while you're in town? Yeah, the string bikinis--none of those granny panties you got me last time. Ta!") It was like a tarts and vicars party only better!
As it turns out, he is merely organizing excursions for the purpose of purchasing knickers. Very wise, vicar. After all, the appearance of impropriety is often as bad as the real thing.
I'll come out of the knicker drawer. I've fallen into the habit of buying underwear to cheer myself up. If I were ever truly happy, I'm sure the stock in my underwear drawer would be the first thing to suffer. I think this is a stupendous public service. I know he's not feeding the hungry, but really--this is a community service event I can get behind.
And by the way, for those keeping score, this is another BBC News story with a suspiciously good name--the Vicar's name is Rev Husband.