Last fall I set to work planning, maddeningly plotting, and pulling together a low-budget outside wedding. As all outside weddings go, you have to plan for the weather. I told my mother to spread the news that we weren’t doing anything fancy-dancy, so no need to dress up. Just grab your jeans, a warm jacket, and go.
My aunt sent my mother an e-mail asking how casual was casual? My mother told her what I said about jeans and shirt, but couldn’t help but throw in that: “Underwear is optional, as we won’t know about it anyway. She forwarded the e-mail to me so if I had anything to add, I could.
My response??
Well, I hope to heaven’s sake someone else will be in some under-roos ’cause I got one heck of an eye opener on “dressing like a lady” while doing some serious undergarment shopping for the big day. Let me tell you a little story; laugh as much as you can, because I know I still do.
The day for me to go out and get fitted for the dress came around and the bridal boutique told me to bring the underwear that I plan on wearing underneath so that they could determine whatever it is that they do that needs done . . . Anywho . . . being the complete NON-girly-girl that I am thinks, “Yeah, that one piece bustier bra thingy and maybe a pair of control top panties will do fine to suck the fat rolls back.”
Oh was I ever wrong . . .
During the uncomfy process of the fitting, I tried on some of these granny-panty looking things to try to hide the bottom hem-roll of the bustier (the dress is straight and you can see all the stuff I am trying to hide—YIKES!!) and they do NOT suck in any fat at all. (Hmmm . . . time to go shopping somewhere else. My bridesmaid Margie says, “Hey, there’s a lingerie outlet store just off the next exit, we’ll go look there.” OK!!
We get there and I am in awe. Three Bras for thirty dollars?! Sign me up!!! We go to the back of the store and find some Spanx (For those that don’t know, Spanx is what I am sure is a Latin term meaning “unable to breathe.”)
I pick out a pair of legging things and a piece that I can only describe as a girdle. I was unsure as I eyeballed this thing and it hung innocently on the hanger. I went to the dressing room and low and behold, the legging things stretch from just above the top of the knee to just under the girls. HEHEHEHEHE I have to giggle.
Then I get the bright idea that if this thing can suck in the fat that good, the girdle on top must really help out! So I continue to look at this thing. No hooks, no zippers, no buttons, no fasteners of any kind. *SHRUG* OK, so what’s the big deal? I’ll just slide the thing on, right?
So I slid it on over my head, struggled to get it across the girls and my arms through it. Whew—I need to work out . . . HMMM . . . this thing is starting to roll up seriously bad, I gotta unroll it . . . OWWW OOOO THE PAIN, SWEET JESUS I JUST GAVE MYSELF MY FIRST MAMMOGRAM!!!!!! This thing has got the girls squished down and pointing in opposite directions . . . oooOOOoooowwww.
Heavy breathing till now; starting to sweat . . . suck it up butter cup, get it on right? HA! Got it! Wow, it really is hard to breathe in alla this crap . . . hmmm . . . well, I don’ t know about this thing, its creating even more of a hemline that I don’ t want people to see. Okay, so I won’t get it.
