Wednesday, May 4, 2011
I'm a vision in my own mind.....
I had just finished trying on two or three outfits. One of the outfits I had chosen was a pair of slacks along with a long tunic type sweater – one that would go practically to my thighs and cover up what I call the “wave effect”. I am sure that you have seen the wave – it is when the tummy and thighs have those rolls of fat like the waves on the ocean. So, here I was, just the perfect victim for their sales gimmick. YES, I wanted those Spanx – they would certainly get rid of my waves. (Now, don’t you think the term “waves” sound so much better than fat or flab?)
I stood there, looking at the size chart on the package, trying to decide the best fit for me. I was at the top of the Size C; but vanity, ego, or just plain stupidity – call it whatever you will, would not let me look at Size D. After all, I once was a Size 8 and I was now on Weight Watchers; why buy a size that was going to be too big after just a few more points! I grabbed my Size C Spanx and headed for the cashier, not only was I going to be well-dressed, but I was also going to look very svelte with everything in place. I could just see an image of myself in my head – all slim and trim (and it only took one trip to the store to have this vision swirling in my head).
I was so excited, I could hardly wait for morning! I pulled the Spanx out of the package and unfolded this tiny piece of spandex. I held it up to my body and saw that this was going to be one tight fit! I briefly considered waiting for those Weight Watcher points to take effect. I sat down on the side of the hotel bed, brought my right leg up and crossed it up over my left knee to make it easier to put on the darned things. As I was getting ready to pull the right leg of the Spanx over my right foot, I noticed a defect. There, in the crotch, was a hole! Upon closer inspection, I could see that this wasn’t a tear – the hole had been left there, on purpose.
I got up off the bed and dug the package out of the trash can. I had my own suspicions of why the opening was there, but I needed to read it for myself. There, on the back of the package, the benefits of my Spanx were listed. Included was “Slit in crotch for when necessity calls”. Now, hadn’t they just thought of everything! I could even be trim while I pottied. It’s just such a shame that the visions in our heads aren’t the ones that look back at us when we stare in the mirror. I had not yet gotten them on, but I knew in my heart of hearts that putting this wonderful garment on was going to be no walk in the park!
I sat back down on the side of the bed, and once again, I crossed the right leg and foot over the left knee. And, I started. I got the Spanx onto the right foot and up on my ankle. I put my foot down and leaned over and got the Spanx over the left foot and onto the ankle. I pulled and tugged, and tugged and pulled until I had them up to my thighs. I continued pulling and tugging. I sat on the bed, and I lay on the bed - sweatin’ like a pig. I waddled over and looked in the mirror. How in the world was I ever going to get them up over my butt, and where would all those lumps go? It looked to me like there was a lot more of me left than there was of Spanx. I began to rethink that size thing.
After dancing around the room for several more minutes; losing a fake fingernail in the process, I won the battle. I was absolutely worn out, and every inch of me was drenched, in sweat. But, I was completely dressed, in Spanx, from my knees to my waist. There was only one small problem. I had managed to put the Spanx on over a pair of underwear and a pair of pantyhose. (Just like a man would do, I had read the instructions AFTER I started putting them on.)! Either I would ignore necessity calling, all day, or I would remove these things and start again. About that time, necessity did call – loud and clear.
I decided, since I had to remove them anyway, I might as well put them on like they were designed to be worn, with pantyhose on top. Let me tell you, putting those things on a second time was no picnic. The first time was bad enough, but trying to pull Spanx onto bare, damp (from sweating) skin was like trying to put a 4 inch square peg into a 3 inch round hole! I struggled and pulled and twisted and danced around that room like I was having some sort of fit. Finally, after about 15 minutes and a couple of hot flashes, I was once again wrapped in Spanx. To say they fit like a glove is an understatement.
I looked into the mirror, and I have to tell you that the sight just made me sick. I still had waves in all the wrong places. I had believed everything in the ads. I had really imagined that this wonderful garment would absolutely and miraculously get rid of all my lumps and ridges. Their ads had truly made me believe in magic. In my mind, I could see myself looking like I had 20 – 30 years ago. Not!
The mind can do really strange things. I could still imagine those new pants and that new tunic top making me look all slim and sexy. After all, I had the Spanx on – the image, in my head, would surely appear (in the mirror) when I was fully dressed. Let’s just say the image in my head looked better than the one that stared back at me after I had on those new duds. To say that I was disappointed was putting it mildly.
I suffered through the day. You just can’t stuff a Size 14 body into a garment meant for a Size 8 and not expect discomfort. And, as for the “hole for when necessity called” – well, that didn’t work like it was supposed to, either.
The darned things were just about as hard to get off as they were to get on. But, I tell you one thing – there is one place where they fit very well…….in my dresser drawer. I hang onto them for times when I need to look like a model. Do I put them on? Heck no, I open the drawer and look at ‘em! The image in my head is quite enough.