To Be A Woman

SES and SES_B-i-L got married over the weekend. We are all VERY excited to have SES_B-i-L be OFFICIAL. He is a wonderful guy and fits in rather well I think. Welcome SES_B–i-L.

During my outfit prep for said outdoor southern (read hot and sweaty) nuptials, I remembered that I’d left my new age “girdle” back in The Homeland by mistake. I looked on line to see if there was something for less than $50 that I could procure on my lunch hour. We’ve (and by ‘we’ I mean my female digital friends) have heard of Spanx and the mircle they are. They’ve been on Oprah and everything! I’d tried a pair of Spanx nylons and was in no way impressed. I ran across this and was won over by the fact that it hooked on to my bra which would help in holding off the dreaded nylon roll down. Alas, $80??? Without a coupon? I wasn’t sure. But I went to the store anyway. They had the item, but not in my size. So I continued to pursue the Spanx display. And found these. Remembering my run in with Spanx in the past, I bought a size smaller, because the size they recommended last time, really didn’t make any difference. Fast forward several days to a hotel room. I am a Northern gal. I don’t do heat well. And as any woman will tell you, humidity is not your hair’s best friend. I have the a/c CRANKED up as I am holed up in the bathroom, far FAAAAR from said a/c trying to make my hair curl. F is sitting on the bed whimpering that it is too cold and can’t he turn the a/c down????? Finally he says he is going for a walk. After several more attempted I give up and pull my hair back in a clip. I am hot, sweaty, and cranky that my hair is flat and boring. F returns and we both begin to get dressed. 2 seconds later he’s done and I’m still gingerly removing the Spanx from the packaging.
F: “What IS that???”
Me: “A girdle type thing.”
F: “Are you sure you want to wear that? Won’t you be hot?”
Me: “I have NO choice!!! God, being a woman really sucks!”

F stands back and watches me intently as I slip the contraption over my feet, and then my calves. So far, very good. But then comes the thighs of thunder and the ass of outsized.

Me: “Oh god. I don’t know if this is going to WORK!!!!”

F: “What happens if it doesn’t?”

Me: “Then I’m SCREWED!! I have nothing else to wear.”

I can feel the circulation in my thighs begin to slow as the bunched up whole of the super strength spandex holds its shape, not giving a millimeter of room. More sweat pops out on my forehead. I wobble as I begin to lose my balance because my legs are held tightly together at an unusual point just above my knee caps. F watches in horror as I hop closer to the a/c unit.
Me: “I have to cool down. I have to relax .” I begin to slow my breathing as I mutter “I can do this, I can do this” as I try to keep my nails from ripping a hole into the delicate fabricate of bondage.
After a tournament of twisting and turning, the thighs are sausaged and enveloped into the Spanx. I stop to catch my breath and turn the a/c blower onto High. I let the air blow against my face as I steel myself for the second half. Because these are HIGH RISE I still have 50% more body to bond with the “Shape wear”. I heft, and tug and wiggle and swear, certain I'll ripe the fabric, or pass out from the effort, but then, FINALLY the generous gut has been tamed. I turn and look at the fruits of my labor in the mirror. As I inspect the finished product I notice that I have at least a ½ inch of exposed skin between my bra and the waist band of the Spanx.
Me: “DAMN IT!”
At this point F has turned from the spectacle and is chatting on his cell phone.
Me: “F!” I whimper “You HAVE to pull this up further for me!!!!”
With the phone tucked snugly between his ear and shoulder F takes both hands and gives the Spanx waist band a MIGHTY TUG which brings me up on tip toe.
F hangs up the phone, “How’s that? Better?” he looks at me concerned.
Me: “Damn. Daaaaaaaaaaaamn, this shit REALLY works!!!! WOW.”
F: “But, um, uh, how will you go to the bathroom?????”
Me: “It has a slit. Otherwise, I won’t.”
This amazing stunt of scar less body shaping took no less than 15 minutes to complete.
It took me a good 30mins at breakfast to realize something wasn’t quite right.
In my fever to get this thing up where it belonged, at my bra line, nay, securely tucked in under my bra, I failed to notice that the seam up the middle was not in a straight line. Rather it is curving off to the side. This is NOT good. All the targeted spandex mushing and squeezing powers are off axis, just a tad. Throughout the ceremony I can feel the Spanx trying to correct itself. I manage to ignore it. The Spanx and I have come to an accord. The battle of the bulge was won.
Ok, maybe not won, but at least artificially tamed.
Bless you Spanx, bless you and your mighty weave of spandex!!!!