Lucky for all of you the shitty, wet weather has returned so here I sit contemplating what the hell I'm going to write about today. I've been spending a fair amount of time concentrating on silver linings, as it is my plight in life to focus on what's positive. I complain a lot about things too. I'm a Libra so balance is important to me. On the bitching topic, looks like restaurants and bars in Chicago are not opening until July now. That's half of the summer. Seriously sucks. Quarantine is not fun, but there are some things I think most women at least don't miss. Shapewear! Anyone missing their Spanx?
I'm going to hazard a guess that you are all getting very comfortable in your new normal work wardrobe of yoga pants or sweatpants. Can you imagine pouring yourself into pair of Spanx anytime soon? I think this is a good opportunity for us women to align on this: no more shapewear!!! I myself have a dubious history with these types of garments anyway, so I let my lady lumps exist peacefully now. My muffin tops don't want to be squished into some torturous garment. Who invented these things, anyway?
History shows us that shapewear has changed over the years to reflect societal preferences of what a woman's body should look like. In the 20s, women donned undergarments to hide their curves. In the 50s women wore padded pointed "bullet" bras because apparently boobs were in fashion but girdles were required to cinch in your waist. Then Spandex made its appearance in the 60s, promising a more comfortable way to keep all our lady lumps in line— without corsets and girdles! We can also thank this tech introduction with the beginning of pantyhose, yet another awful trend. Fortunately that one died so here's our moment ladies! Let's ban shapewear!
My first rather unfortunate brush with shapewear was after the birth of my second child. A few months after the birth, my brother was getting married and I was a bridesmaid! Yeah, right? The dresses were being hand-made by a friend of the bride's so I had to send my measurements just a few weeks post-delivery. The seamstress contacted my sister-in-law Kristen and said that I must have mis-measured. Yes, I'm now shaped like a ladybug, I do realize that!
This spurred me to action, knowing a ladybug silhouette will not be flattering in a bridesmaid dress. How am I going to squeeze this body into a dress of any kind in the next 6 weeks?? So I left my newborn at home with her toddler brother and father and made a desperate dash to Marshall's to find some type of "jaws of life" garment to rescue me. Knowing full well I was on the clock, I grabbed a handful of suitable options, opting for the full-body assist slips and ran to the dressing room.
Not having time to waste, knowing I had baby at home that would require breastfeeding within the hour, I decided to leave my leggings and boots on. In retrospect, that might have been my undoing. I held it in my hand, pondering my plan of attack. Now this might sound silly to the men out there, but I was at a crucial juncture: should I step in it and pull up or should I go the over-the-head route. Typically I'm bigger on top than on bottom, but at this particular time, I resembled a pregnant cockroach so either approach should be equally awkward.
After determining I couldn't get my snow boots through it easily, I choose the over-the-head method. I got my first arm and one giant boob through successfully but when I tried to get my second arm and equally large other boob through, the whole thing started fighting me and tightening like a giant spandex boa constrictor. I immediately start to panic and decided to abort but now it's not budging. I'm working against gravity without any leverage. Hundreds of years of material science advances were now working against me. The more I fought to pull it off, the tighter its grip became. I struggled to loosen its vice-like grip. I'm starting to sweat as I come to the realization that I'm literally trapped in this thing.
So join me in this visual: I've got this damn thing stuck, can't pull it down and now can't pull it off so I'm quite literally wrestling at this point just to liberate myself. What are my options? If I had any adequate tool on me, I would have cut myself out, but the baby nail clippers I had on hand did not cut it, pun intended.
So options are A: Scream for help and just live with the extreme humiliation of someone seeing me naked from the waist up — but still wearing my boots and leggings — with this goddamn contraption caught like a sling from hell? Or dislocate my own shoulder to remove it? Not great options. Eventually some primal survival "fight or flight" instinct kicked in and with Herculean strength, I was finally able to liberate myself. I don't remember if the garment survived. I barely did.
My only other experience with shapewear was fairly recently and also ended badly. I had a big date and wanted to look good in a dress that was a bit more clingy than I usually wear. So I ordered by very first pair of Spanx, assuming shapewear had come a long way since 1995. I thought I looked a bit like a tube of toothpaste but at least the lady lumps were in line.
That night at some point, I had to pee, and it wasn't until I got to the bathroom that I realized that there was a real sense of urgency. Perhaps too much wine was at fault, but once I got in the stall, I remembered that I had to undo some type of mechanism between my legs (there to keep the garment in place) but I could not figure out how to do it. I thought it was a snap so I pulled and pulled. WTF?
My only other experience with shapewear was fairly recently and also ended badly. I had a big date and wanted to look good in a dress that was a bit more clingy than I usually wear. So I ordered by very first pair of Spanx, assuming shapewear had come a long way since 1995. I thought I looked a bit like a tube of toothpaste but at least the lady lumps were in line.
That night at some point, I had to pee, and it wasn't until I got to the bathroom that I realized that there was a real sense of urgency. Perhaps too much wine was at fault, but once I got in the stall, I remembered that I had to undo some type of mechanism between my legs (there to keep the garment in place) but I could not figure out how to do it. I thought it was a snap so I pulled and pulled. WTF?
Now I was starting to panic, perhaps due to the previous trauma and the realization that peeing myself was not an option. I still could not get the damn thing to work and I couldn't pull it down without removing my entire dress! So finally I just ripped it, only then to realize later it was a hook-and-eye closure. Did I mention the wine? URGH.
The only other time I wore it, sans the whole crotch-area attachment, it just slowly rolls itself up while I'm wearing it until the whole thing is basically around my waist. Another shapewear disaster in the books.
Well, thanks for reading. Hope you are all ok. Congrats to all my friends with kids graduating. Sad they were robbed of proper pomp and ceremony but know they are bound for greatness, and will have a great story to tell. Some areas returning to some level of normalcy? I'm looking forward to seeing that. Stay safe though and have a great week, everyone!
Ciao for now.
Well, thanks for reading. Hope you are all ok. Congrats to all my friends with kids graduating. Sad they were robbed of proper pomp and ceremony but know they are bound for greatness, and will have a great story to tell. Some areas returning to some level of normalcy? I'm looking forward to seeing that. Stay safe though and have a great week, everyone!
Ciao for now.
Barb
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