Back in the day, liberated women burned their bras, while tossing their girdles and corsets in the trash. I am woman, hear me roar. Yet, some items are sneaking their way back into our lives. I am talking about that technologically advanced girdle, better known as Spanx! I listened as friends and family raved about the svelte shape it created, without the vise like horrors of it’s predecessor. Well I am here to tell you that they are all a big pack of liars.
I had an event to attend, and I needed a little, well maybe more than a little help in the svelte department. With dreams of this miracle lingerie playing in my head, I broke down and purchased a midriff to mid-thigh number. I have to tell you, at first blush, this item of clothing was truly miraculous! I shimmied in to it, and slipped my cocktail dress on. It was amazing! No lumps or bumps, just a smooth lean profile. I made my way to the car, and departed for the big event. This is where the tale turns horrific. Things would have been wonderful, if I could have stood in front of my mirror all evening, and breathed shallowly. However since the fete was taking place somewhere other than my boudoir I was forced to travel.
About 10 minutes into the drive, my midriff staged a prison break. The Spanx tried valiantly to quell the disturbance, but was sadly outmanned. I was now the proud owner of an atomic muffin top. I thank God my dress did not have buttons at the waist, for the force would have blown them right through the windshield. I tried to man handle my recalcitrant mid section back into position, but I was thwarted in my efforts by Spanx blow back. To those of you unfamiliar with this phenomenon, I will explain. When your Spanx is over taken by unruly midriff, it bites back. My waist area was now caught in a strangle hold of constricting spandex, and what I suspect was iron rebar rods. I was having trouble breathing, sitting, and talking.
Apparently word of the major breach reached my thighs. They too decided to stage their own breakout, to show solidarity. Both Spanx thighs curled up, and played dead. I had just single handedly discovered muffin bottoms. Immediately the defeated lower ends of my Spanx started cutting off circulation to my legs.
Since I didn’t fancy going to this affair looking like the Michelin Man, never mind that I couldn’t walk or breathe, I decided to take action. You haven’t lived till you wiggle out of a full torso Spanx, while seat belted in a car going 60 miles an hour. For those of you thinking “My God!” we thought texting while driving was dangerous, rest assured. I wasn’t driving. My poor spouse had the pleasure of being my chauffeur that infamous evening. The things that poor man has seen over the years!
I attended the party that night, sans support wear, and had a wonderful time. Much better than the two ladies I met in the powder room. Apparently I wasn’t the only Spanx challenged guest that night.
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