There is an anonymous poem about undergarments being made from feedsacks. The writer obviously had some very vivid and personal recollections:
When I was a maiden so fair
Mama made our underwear
With little tots and Papa’s poor pay
How could she buy lingerie
Monogram’s and fancy stitches
Were not on our flour sack breeches.
Pantywaists that stood the test
With GOLD MEDAL on the chest
Little pants the best of all
With a scene I still recall
Harvesters were gleaning wheat
Right across the little seat.
Tougher than a grizzle bear
Was our flour sack underwear
Plain of fancy, three feet wide,
Stronger than a hippo’s hide
Throughout the years,
Each Jill and Jack
Wore this sturdy garb of a sack.
“Waste not – want not” was soon learned.
And “A penny saved is a penny earned”
Bedspreads, curtains, tea towels, too
Table clothes, to name a few
But best, beyond compare
Was our flour sack underwear.