Some time ago, Priscilla made me promise that I would share this story on the blog. As a public service.
Because ladies, you don’t want this to happen to you…especially during the holidays. Be ye warned.
Ahem.
My daughter, Meghan, and I attended a wedding a few months ago. I made a last minute stop at Marshalls for a gift and, of course, something to wear because I had nothing suitable. I dashed home, hastily got ready, and then realized that the drapey black culotte thing I bought would show my panty lines. (Gentlemen, this is where you should bow out. Close the door behind you so I can talk to the ladies.) I rummaged through my drawers and baskets for my off-brand Spanx but could not come up with them anywhere.
Not to worry. In the deep recesses of my memory, a fashion tip I’d once heard surfaced: If you’re in a pinch for a bottom-smoother, simply cut off the legs of a pair of pantyhose and slide the top part on. Now that I think about it, I might have made that tip up.
Eureka!
I grabbed some scissors and sliced the legs away from an old pair and put it on. Fabulous idea, I was set. And so proud of my innovation.
Perhaps I should have titled this post, “Things That Seemed Like Great Ideas at the Time But Did Not Live Up to Expectations.”
The modified pantyhose is indeed great in theory….and for about the first hour. After some time elapses, that’s where the problems set in.
I made it all the way through the ceremony and into the reception before I realized that my science wasn’t as solid as I’d assumed. As I stood up to get more cheese from the appetizer table, the cut-off edges of my faux Spanx rolled up to my derriere like Cuban cigars and created a disaster all up in there. Waaay too much cheese, ladies.
Not only did the edges roll up, but the rolls tightened like tourniquets and became the size of shipyard ropes by the time they lodged into my thighs.
Oh yes.
Shipyard ropes. Lodged. In my thighs.
Mortified, I stiffly made my way to the ladies room for an adjustment, and decided to stand for the rest of the reception. There would be no dancing today.
This entire scenario could have been avoided if I’d simply had an organized underwear drawer. Which is why I encourage you to straighten yours up and take inventory. This little task could save you from a similar fate….and the bottom line is: you don’t want to go there.
End of Public Service Announcement. You’re welcome.
Rachel Anne
