Let’s be honest: I needed a word like “girdle.” It has a boldness that sugar-coated terms like “shapewear” and “body briefer” lack. With only three hours to shed 20 pounds before a special dinner, these pantyhose were my last ray of hope.
I took a leap of faith with my size choice, made the purchase, and hurried back home. Upon opening the package, the pantyhose spilled dramatically across my floor, trailing down the hall. They seemed to be at least 8 feet long, with the girdle portion alone measuring about 4 feet! I double-checked the size on the package—no signs of “irregular” anywhere. If I hadn’t already been pressed for time and worried about my dress fitting, I might have found the sight downright hilarious. These pantyhose appeared suited for a supermodel, and I was beginning to doubt my chances of fitting into them.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I took a deep breath. This needed to be executed flawlessly—once I slipped these on, the only escape plan would likely involve scissors. Studying the back of the package closely, I noted an illustration of a silhouette wearing the pantyhose. The waistband didn’t just sit at the waist; it was designed to cling under the bust. I pondered whether this meant all those pesky rolls below my waist would be pushed up, creating an unexpected boost to my cleavage. Whether intentional or not, I was intrigued!
The process was anything but graceful. Let’s just say there was a fair amount of sweating, hopping, and perhaps a few choice words. Miraculously, the girdle stretched enough to encompass my entire mid-section. I had hoped to enjoy the sleekness of my new silhouette, but instead, I found myself in discomfort. It quickly became clear that breathing easily was not an option; I was relegated to short, shallow breaths.
With no time for second thoughts, I had to accept the sagging crotch that now rested a couple of inches lower than intended. My day would consist of short strides. I grabbed my dress from the bed and wriggled into it. Upon arriving at the restaurant, I exited the car with caution.
Short steps, shallow breaths, slender waist, and enhanced bust. As I approached the entrance, the scent of freshly cut grass lingered in the air. I instinctively pinched my nose, fearing a sneeze was imminent. Alas, it was too late! A series of robust sneezes erupted, and with my third sneeze, the waistband surrendered, rolling down like a Swiss roll. Gravity took over, and my tummy spilled over the top, liberated at last.
I finally took my first deep breath in what felt like an eternity. Undeterred, I shuffled towards the door.
Short steps, deep breaths, a fuller stomach, and a flatter chest.
This article was originally published on June 17, 2015.
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Summary:
In this humorous account, Lila reflects on her challenging experience with girdle-top pantyhose as she prepares for a special dinner. From the comical struggle of putting them on to the unexpected consequences of a sneeze, the story captures the joys and struggles of fitting into clothing that promises a more streamlined appearance.