My crossdressing agreement with my wife is DADT.
Sunday, my wife called me into the laundry room. She pulled out a pair of purple panties and asked me if they were mine.
Without even looking hard, I didn't think that they were mine. There was a time when I wore panties almost daily without her knowledge, but I haven't done that in a while. I've been wearing very obviously feminine yoga pants/crops and racerback/tank tops to yoga class almost exclusively for about 2 years now, again,without her knowledge. I haven't been asked if I'm gay or trans at yoga class, nor have I admitted it. I just let them think that I'm a dude who got tired of wearing the standard navy, gray or black male yoga "uniform". Wearing panties and showing a visible panty line or having them peak out from under my yoga pants when I bend over would ruin my carefully manufactured illusion. Not that I really mind, but I'd prefer to be more subtle.
I also haven't gone out of the house dressed in a while, nor have I washed my panties. I just can't get enough time alone to do a load of wash. So, not likely a panty leak there either.
Anyhow, the panties were a dark purple, and actually quite cute. Definitely something I might have owned. But, once I took a closer look, it was clear that they weren't mine. I checked the label on the inside, and showed her that they were size 8, which I know is her size. I didn't tell her that I wear a size 6. That's not a disclosure that would make her happy.
After I showed her that the panties were hers, she said, "That's good. I would be very upset if they were your panties [in the common wash].
I kind of dodged a bullet, but I still don't understand why it even matters.