Tuesday, April 11, 2017

SPANX ARE OF THE DEVIL

I had an event to go to recently. Naturally, the event called for me to dress in something other than a pair of yoga pants.

Why has no one created formal wear in the yoga pants department?

I pulled a dress out of my closet that I had not worn since probably September.  I slipped it on.  Not going to lie. It didn't fall as nicely over my body as I always dreamed it should.  In fact, it highlighted every roll in my middle, and, lately, I've "grown" a lotta rolls!

So, I did what any desperate fat girl would do, I pawed through my lingerie basket until I uncovered my trusty Spanx.

I have a love hate relationship with my Spanx.  I love that they cover up a multitude of sins.  However, it takes an act of God to wrestle those suckers onto my body.  And heaven help us all, when I have to wrestle them off.

My last thoughts, as I got the last bits of fabrics over my ample middle was, "Please, Lord, keep me from having to go to the bathroom. Wrestling these on and off in a bathroom stall will not end well."

I was doing great at the event too -- but those two pots of tea I drank did eventually require some attention, which meant I would have to deal with the Spanx.

Now, getting Spanx back up again is a delicately, tricky business.  You must get them pulled up, but still maintain a proper and equal percentage of restricting fabric on offending and flabby thighs.  At the same time, you must make sure that your abdominal muscles (or lack thereof) are fully and completely encased in said Spanx. Otherwise, all the stuff you've shoved in there will refuse to stay put.

I knew things were not right when I felt the left leg roll up a tiny bit from my fatty thigh.  However, when we got into the car, I quickly tugged at the leg, rearranging the fabric.  Something still didn't feel right.

My car mates and I made a quick stop at a local outlet mall, and that's when things got dicey.  I got out of the car, and my fat shifted. With that shifting, came the waist band of the Spanx shifting, which means, I could feel the waist band roll on itself.  The more I walked, the more it rolled so that by the time I entered the store my car mates wanted to shop in, my Spanx were threatening to roll right off my body!

It's amazing how fast the fat can push those suckers in a downward motion working with gravity in the most heinous of ways.

All I can say is thank goodness there was a restroom nearby.  A quick visit allowed an adjustment and put a stop to what could only be termed a very, very ugly situation.

The Spanx are now shoved back into the bottom of my lingerie basket, and they are not scheduled to make another appearance until Easter Sunday.  Congregation, beware!

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