I just had a new essay published:
Most adult Mormons who have been deemed worthy to enter the temple wear sacred underwear called “garments”: white, two-piece fabric hugging the body from mid-arm to kneecaps. (Imagine a white fitted t-shirt and cycling shorts.) The garments represent the coat of skins God gave Adam and Eve after they ate the forbidden fruit and realized they were naked. Mormons wear the garments day and night, removing them only for bathing, exercise, or sex.
Urban legends run through Mormon circles about the faithful who were dramatically saved by the holy fabric, by deflecting a bullet or shielding the skin from raging fire. I have the opposite tale: when I was a 19-year-old Mormon missionary in Peru, I crapped my sacred garments.
Read it here.