Sunday, August 1, 2010
Spanx- Or why do women hate themselves so much?
Saturday evening my boyfriend (still hate that word) was taking me to one of his friends weddings. She is actually the lady who has cut his hair forever, this man is so friendly and funny that everyone loves him! So we had a wedding to go to, not overly formal but I still needed a new dress.
I went Friday night to find a dress and ran into Nancy instead so somehow we found a bar and a couple of Corona's and talked about our love lives.
Saturday morning I dropped Clementine off at the groomers and went to find a dress. I speed shopped, tried on approximately 500 dresses and came away with two. I have a friend getting married the end of August so I needed two, don't judge me!
These dresses are fairly clingy through the bodice and swingy through the skirt so I though maybe I should get one of those new fangled shapewear things to make everything nice and smooth.
I am not a big woman but I still have those little rolls around my bra strap and some chubbles around my waist and I wanted to look nice.
I had no idea how many shapewear styles there were. You can basically buy something that goes from mid calf to your wrists. I thought that was overkill, after all, it's summer and the skirt doesn't cling.
I bought the lovely panty in the picture. I hurried home, excited to show Mo what I bought. I show her both dresses, she tells me which one she likes then she picks up the panty, which is hanging from a skirt like hanger.
"What is this?" She looks horrified.
"It's my Spanx."
" Mom, seriously, what is this?"
"Industrial strength underwear. It's to make everything smooth under the dress."
" Dead sexy Mom" she says, rolling her eyes at me, " All night your boyfriend is going to be thinking- I can't wait to get you and your granny panties home."
"I cannot believe we are having this conversation, aren't you going to be late for work?" I'm pushing her out the door, what does she know with her 17 year old everything is where it's supposed to be body?
Kids!! After my shower I start to get dressed. It takes me about 25 minutes and every swear word I know to get this panty over my butt and hips. Another 10 and it's over my rib cage sucking the life out of me.
Everything is smooth except for these two large lumps, oh wait, those are my freaking ribs! I'm having trouble taking a deep breath and the world is getting a little fuzzy around the edges.
Finally my body adjusts to the lack of oxygen and I'm able to finish getting ready. We go to the wedding and it's wonderful. Then we go out to dinner, which is wonderful as well. Except that I have to pee and there is no escape from my killer underwear. I'm trying not to think about it. When we get home I feel like a three year old doing the potty dance so I turn to my boyfriend and ask him to take my underwear off.
Trust me, it was no where near as come hither as it sounds, he was made aware of the underwear on the way to the wedding when I told him I thought they were trying to kill me.
He grabs a hold of those babies and starts pulling, and pulling, and pulling. I forgot to tell you, these panties have a rubberized two inch wide area around each leg hole to keep them smooth and from riding up your butt. By the time he gets the panties off my hips he has discovered that they are glued to my butt. Dead sexy I tell ya!
Amazingly, he still kissed me goodnight.