I had bought a pair of black slacks that, although not tight, were made of a fabric that was a bit too clingy for my comfort and decided that some sort of compression-type foundation garment was in order. I've never owned one, never worn one, and had certainly never been instructed in any aspect of girdle ownership. My mother, to my knowledge, never wore one (the woman was a twig and had no need for such things!) so I remained uneducated about them.
Imagine my surprise when I realized just how many choices there were! Yikes! I'm sure the people manning the security cameras at Khol's that day got a kick out of my facial expressions as I did my best to conceal my ignorance and perused my options.
I didn't even know what size to buy. Do you get one the size that you ARE or the size you want to be compressed into?
I decided to split the difference.
After choosing one that looked like it would cause the least amount of injury should something unexpectedly snap loose, I headed to the dressing room. I'll spare you the details and just say that I think that was the day that I had my first real hot flash.
With purchase in hand, I headed home, put the girdle in a dresser drawer and forgot about it. I never did wear the pants. Unfortunately I put on a few pounds and they became uncomfortably tight, so they are still hanging in my closet awaiting a loss.
Fast forward about a year or so.
I bought a dress. Notice how the girdle comes into play when I buy things that I rarely wear? That's another sign that it isn't going to work out! It is a cute dress. I actually bought it for my daughter but it was (way too) big for her so I decided to keep it for myself.
I wore the dress to church. I don't know why. I always wear jeans but figured I'd dress up a little this day. A short black and white dress with over-the-calf black dress boots. Cute, but the girdle (AND pantyhose) was needed to smooth things out a bit.
Between Sunday school and worship service I had to visit the ladies room. BIG mistake. Those stalls have zero clearance.
Again, to spare embarrassing you with details, I will just say that I left the bathroom feeling misaligned.
Now any thinking person would've done an about-face and fixed what needed to be fixed. I, however, went straight to my seat and THEN began to wonder "Is something tucked that shouldn't be?!?"
As we stood to sing, my aunt gave me a quick once-over and assured me that I was tuck-free.
Services over, after-service chatting done, we headed to lunch with my aunt driving. And I needed my freedom. NEEDED!
By the time I was done, my hose and girdle were wadded up in the floorboard, my half slip was around my knees, my dress was up around my waist, and I had somehow engaged the extra traction feature on the truck! I sure hope the good people at Google Earth had their cameras pointed away from Delaware...
Partially defeated, I gave up trying to rearrange myself and asked if, when we got to the restaurant, we could park in such a way that I could discreetly exit the vehicle and put myself to rights. By the time we got there, the driver forgot... FORGOT?!?... and parked us right in front of the door. Ugh!
Thankfully she moved and I was able to retain what dignity I had left.
But I think my adventures with girdles are over.
Unless they develop baggy Spanx.