Underwear Not to Wear


Also known as Spanx but no thanks! Back by popular demand and just in time for all those little black party dresses. Spanx Underwear - what not to wear!

“Get one” she said to me. “You’ll love it. I wear one every day.”

She is referring to SPANX. I have a shirt that I love but hate the back bulge caused by my bra and oh yeah, back fat despite the strenuous exercising that NEVER touches that area. So I bought one and here’s what happened this morning when I tried it on.

I put on my bra and then worked a very long time to get into the very innocent looking tank top. It was the freaking tank top from HELL I tell you. I tried putting both arms in first then my head and couldn’t do it. Then I put my head through it and wiggled one arm up through the arm hole but that made it even more challenging to get the other arm in. But I got it - finally!

But then I had to pull the ‘squeeze your guts out – tight’ bodice of the tank top over my breasts to where it was supposed to go. By the time I got it in position I was sweating and needed another shower. And to boot, as I examined my backside in the mirror I didn't think my shirt looked any better! “Gonna have to do this again when Kevin gets home to see what he thinks. Does it fix the back fat issue or not; worth it or not?” I think to myself.

Then I go to take it off and that’s when the panic set in. I couldn’t pull the damned thing up and then it got worse when I managed to get one arm out. One arm was out; sticking straight up in the air, but the rest of the top was stuck well, on my breasts. Just so you have a clear visual - one over and one under the damned contraption and it was stuck! I mean really stuck. And my other arm was stuck up the middle somewhere acting completely useless. I’ve never had a panic attack before but I think I was close.

With my arm reaching for the ceiling and the rest of me tangled like – well you know – I sat on the edge of my bed and practiced deep calming breaths and thought of kittens frolicking in a basket. Then I looked at the clock. It would be 5 or 6 hours before Kevin got home from work. Could I sit like this for that long? What if I had to pee? Could I manage to dial 911 with my toes? Naked except for the contraption from hell and a bra there was absolutely no way I was calling anyone!

And then the panic really set in – I have to get my son from school at 3:00 pm!

With sheer perseverance and the strength of a god I managed to get the f---ing thing off. It is now a very expensive drawer liner!

My advice: only a masochist would wear a torture device like this every day. Skip the Spanx – get surgery. I think surgery to remove the back fat would be easier!!

Ursula Neal

Ursula is a grief coach for mothers who have lost children helping them to move from crappy to happy again. She is also a personal growth strategist helping individuals reach their goals. She may be reached at 602-400-4423 or ursula@CompassReset.com. Facebook Google+

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