For a while now, I've been entertaining the thought of using slimming undergarments as my own smoke and mirrors, in an attempt to look, well, very shmexy, as opposed to just simply good.
My journey began on a day not too long ago, could have been a Wednesday, when I was packing for a trip that involved attending a very nice wedding. Fooled by the shiny packaging and the pretty picture, I packed a spanx slip (removes inches! contours! chops, slices, juliennes!).
Fast forward to the day of the event... I am ready to get dressed and have 15 minutes to go... should be enough for finishing touches on the hair. Now, I suspect I was possessed by a demonic force, as I suddenly decided to wear the aforementioned shmexyfying slip underneath my dress.
Took it out of the package, looks simple enough, not as much stretch as I thought but, you know, should fit. Naturally, I first try to put it on over my head. I got it to right above my boobs, from which point it refused to move in any other direction and it just sat there like a sad role of despair. I somehow unrolled the straps and got those in the right place, but then decided i should get it over my boobs... big mistake. After 5 minutes of struggling, one side was halfway down my boob, and the other one was cutting off circulation giving me a makeshift breast reduction. Now, being a stubborn bitch that I am, I don't give up that easy. Couple scrapes, bruises, and one chafed boob later, the roll of fabric was now underneath my breast. Great success. Little did I know that the second portion of this exercise will require olympic athlete stamina, combined with flexibility of a kitten in heat. At this point, I was already late for pictures so I thought I might as well finish and see how this sonofabish looks on. Do not attempt this at home, or unsupervised. For the next 10 minutes I placed my legs and my arms in positions I didn't think were possible. I'm quite certain I dislocated my shoulder so I can pull one of the snaps together, just to realize that the front of the slip (from now on referred to as a personal torture device) has now rolled up again... and this went on until I was so sweaty that I had to change my make up. My hair also looked like I either got molested by a silverback, or dried it standing in front of a jet engine.
Finally! All the pieces were in place and oh my, did I look like sex on a stick, everything tucked into place and properly stowed away for take off and landing... although I was oxygen deprived, the haze only made the rest of the world look amazing too. I strutted into the room feeling like I just found shoes on sale... and then I realized, to my horror, that I had to pee...
My journey began on a day not too long ago, could have been a Wednesday, when I was packing for a trip that involved attending a very nice wedding. Fooled by the shiny packaging and the pretty picture, I packed a spanx slip (removes inches! contours! chops, slices, juliennes!).
Fast forward to the day of the event... I am ready to get dressed and have 15 minutes to go... should be enough for finishing touches on the hair. Now, I suspect I was possessed by a demonic force, as I suddenly decided to wear the aforementioned shmexyfying slip underneath my dress.
Took it out of the package, looks simple enough, not as much stretch as I thought but, you know, should fit. Naturally, I first try to put it on over my head. I got it to right above my boobs, from which point it refused to move in any other direction and it just sat there like a sad role of despair. I somehow unrolled the straps and got those in the right place, but then decided i should get it over my boobs... big mistake. After 5 minutes of struggling, one side was halfway down my boob, and the other one was cutting off circulation giving me a makeshift breast reduction. Now, being a stubborn bitch that I am, I don't give up that easy. Couple scrapes, bruises, and one chafed boob later, the roll of fabric was now underneath my breast. Great success. Little did I know that the second portion of this exercise will require olympic athlete stamina, combined with flexibility of a kitten in heat. At this point, I was already late for pictures so I thought I might as well finish and see how this sonofabish looks on. Do not attempt this at home, or unsupervised. For the next 10 minutes I placed my legs and my arms in positions I didn't think were possible. I'm quite certain I dislocated my shoulder so I can pull one of the snaps together, just to realize that the front of the slip (from now on referred to as a personal torture device) has now rolled up again... and this went on until I was so sweaty that I had to change my make up. My hair also looked like I either got molested by a silverback, or dried it standing in front of a jet engine.
Finally! All the pieces were in place and oh my, did I look like sex on a stick, everything tucked into place and properly stowed away for take off and landing... although I was oxygen deprived, the haze only made the rest of the world look amazing too. I strutted into the room feeling like I just found shoes on sale... and then I realized, to my horror, that I had to pee...
No comments:
Post a Comment