My Spanx told me to f*ck off. I didn’t ask for their opinion, but I got it anyway. I hardly wear them, so I wonder if that has something to do with it. I have them for the same reason I have a fire extinguisher in my kitchen. In case of an emergency.<\/p>\n
I recall in my youth that anything I threw on fell like a light, silky slip on a Judy. No more. I am the genetic beneficiary of my Slovak DNA. Muffin top and bulges, better associated with freshly baked plum buns are now showing up on my anatomy.<\/p>\n
I no longer wear turtlenecks or bulky wool sweaters. The itching and stifling tight feeling have become uncomfortable for me. That same discomfort now resides in my undergarments. I’m not suggesting that I possess wool underwear, but rather my Spanx have crossed the same sacred line my sweaters did. They are no longer comfortable.<\/p>\n
In a recent night out, they had magnificently twisted themselves midway through the evening to feel tight and cumbersome. Not the invisible saviours that I once knew them to be. I found myself in a contortionist pose earlier that evening as I wrestled into them impacting the muscles in my lower abdomen to such a degree I was jolted upright heaving in severe pain. Pathetic when you think that all I was doing was putting on undergarments. There exist no scientific laws of physics when it comes to putting on or taking off Spanx with ease. You\u2019re on your own in a black abyss. I would recommend having close access to a cell phone in the event you need to contact Emergency Medical Services to ask for the jaws of life.<\/p>\n
It reminded me of the tight-fitting jeans in the early seventies, long before stretchy fabrics existed. Thank you, God! Lying on the bed once they were bone dry, sucking in my gut, and pulling up the zipper hoping I wouldn’t have to go to the bathroom at any point after that. Stomach muscles zipped up tighter than Fort Knox.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m well aware that I\u2019m not what I use to be, but on this particular day my unmentionables not only reminded me of that but rubbed it in. Demanding to upstage and illustrate to me how fabulous a garment this engineered marvel of elasticized brilliance is, and how lost I would be without it. I suspect it\u2019s because I\u2019ve been ignoring them, preferring to live in my stretchy jeans and t-shirt world. Hallelujah for expandable fabrics. Spanx is in a class of its own when it comes to the breadth it encompasses. Truth is I\u2019ve hardly paid attention to them opting to go out regularly without their assistance. In the world of ‘Twilight Zone,’ they lashed out at me, tired of being ignored. On a somewhat chilly evening when they were supposed to serve double duty, as a sculpted liner and container of sorts, they said \u2018fuhgeddaboudit.’<\/p>\n
They started to attack me through the gusset by twisting. Ever so gently upsetting the marvellous construction that earned Spanx their kudos. I felt like I was seven years old with tights that shrunk in the wash. The legging portion curled and rolled as I found myself in the same place I was at as a kid with my very first ill-fitting pair of pantyhose. Making long strides, thinking no one would notice, while I was trying to get the gusset back up and adjust the hosiery. It fussed and twisted and was ever present when it typically is invisible. I’m not going to lie, through all of it my butt looked fabulous but at the expense of my comfort level.<\/p>\n
They\u2019ve not misbehaved in this way before. Consequently, I didn\u2019t imagine it was them but rather the other fabrics I was wearing that were influencing their bad behaviour. It couldn’t have been me. I was nothing more than a prop for which this 20th-century sculpting technology clung to securely. This genius construction of superpower threads never sabotaged me before so why now? Underneath my skirt, it was war, outside of it, it was spectacular. Like that acquaintance that hates your guts but in mixed company is your best friend.<\/p>\n
They were smart because they had adhered to my jersey skirt in such a way that I had to leave the event and find a ladies room. Once there I hiked everything up to correct the twisted gusset and untangle the leg portion of this dynamic undergarment which was coiled, all the while cursing under my breath. I\u2019m sure the woman in the bathroom stall next to me thought I was full out carrying my freak flag that night. What made it worse was having to maneuver in a tiny washroom stall. Nadia Comaneci, I am not.<\/p>\n
My elasticized darlings wanted a lot of attention on this particular night, and they got it. They behaved when I went back to sit down reminding me of how I\u2019m most familiar with them. Truth is they\u2019ve always been good to me. In fact, I hate how well they have served me because then I believe I need them. On this particular evening, they were lashing back, and there was nothing I could do. When I returned home, and it came time to remove them they had adhered to my flesh as tightly as a seal on an unopened mason jar. Suction sound and all. Once off, I could feel my body breathing like it was a billowy souffl\u00e9 with the air slowly releasing, proud that I didn\u2019t throw my back out in the process of removing them. I glared at them accusingly as they hung suspended in my right hand staring back at me limp and innocent. I asked what their motive was to which they dangled naively, shrivelled and speechless. Still breathing onerously from the commotion of removing them, I confessed my allegiance to them and was met with silence. Smug and listless they hung there with a promise I knew they always delivered, however, today with an attitude as well.<\/p>\n
My mother reflected the protocol of her day coming from a time where one wore girdles, garters and Jane Russell torpedo styled brassieres. Throw into that mix black high heeled stiletto heels, and you have the recipe of being constrained and in pain from head to toe. It’s what women did. Style and appearance were at the cost of comfort. A ridiculous sensibility that I wouldn’t adopt. Years later she passed on the tight undergarments and met me on my side of the street in loafers, no less.<\/p>\n
My very first pair of L\u2019eggs introduced me to the world of ease and comfort. Purchased at the local drug store, in an egg, how novel. It was at that time that Ease and I became great friends. My mother was accustomed to formality, but for me, it was a punishment of sorts having to wear fussy accoutrements. To this day I remain a t-shirt and jeans gal, but on the rare occasion, I need the assistance of my Spanx and truth is they\u2019ve been my friend and a good one at that. My issue isn\u2019t really with them it\u2019s with me and the fact that I have to employ them at all. Wrestling with undergarments is sad. If you\u2019re wondering if I threw them out, my reply is a hard no. I need them more then they need me. Go figure, especially since the fabrics I prefer to wear now are soft fitted tops and pants. Comfortable, flowing and effortless.<\/p>\n
Anyway, you cut it they saved the jersey knit skirt I was wearing from looking anything outside of it\u2019s intended design. Now if my other undergarments start to misbehave, I\u2019m going to have to reassess what is going on in my lingerie drawer. So far so good except for one newly acquired pair of panties that surrendered early on and had to be tossed out after only a few delicate washes. Stretched out and miserable theirs was a suicide mission. The rest has been fine thank you very much.<\/p>\n
I suppose it’s the Universe telling me I’m so much more of the girl I use to be.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My Spanx told me to f*ck off. I didn’t ask for their opinion, but I got it anyway. I hardly wear them, so I wonder if that has something to do with it. I have them for the same reason I have a fire extinguisher in my kitchen. In case of an emergency. I recall […]\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-295","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-blog"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t