Spanx

Tomorrow I have a much looked forward to night out in Edinburgh.  Edinburgh is my home of sorts.  I moved about a lot as a child, my dad getting posted from prison to prison (he wasn't an inmate - he worked for the prison service) so we would have to up sticks and move frequently.  But Edinburgh is where I spent most of my life.  I lived in the City for a couple of years during uni - spent all my student loans on holidays and alcohol, then moved home when the cash ran out.  Mum and dad lived in Mid-Lothian, nice wee village.  So, Edinburgh is where I feel at "home".

Tomorrow is an evening with 3 very wonderful friends :-)  Girls from uni, but we're all grown up now and don't see each other much - but when we do it's normally a drink filled evening.  In preparation for tomorrow night's booze-fest I thought I better get something to wear - any excuse for new clothes.  So my heels are coming out to play and a new vest top with skinny jeans.

Sadly after having 2 kids my body is slightly erm....flabby to say the least. Those of you out there who have had children will be able to understand my muffin top drama.  So a pair of Spanx have been purchased - apparently they will make me super skinny with a waist like a wasp.  They claim to be "High Powered, High Waisted, Power Pants"  Power Pants eh? I feel a bit like Wonder Woman.  Tom will be pleased. They even come with a hole in the gusset so you don't need to take them off when you go for a piss.  I can see that going horribly wrong after a few voddys.  Reading the instructions on the box I find my size.  Apparently it's a B. This is a lie.  I should have bought a Z.  I  purchase them and have lovely images in my head of me wearing my skinnies and looking all slender, how fabulous!  Then I get home and try the things on.  Have you ever tried on a pair of Spanx? It's hard work.  A bit like squeezing a lion through a drainpipe. But maybe less hairy (on a good day) 

I take them out of the packet - they are tiny, surely this is a mistake?  I must have purchased a size for a Barbie doll, but no, apparently they should fit.  I'm having doubts my ankle will fit never mind my huge arse and tummy.  So, off we pop to put them on.  A lot of huffing and puffing later and I'm bright red and sweating.  I have now managed to wrestle them above my knee.  How the fuck do I get these things over my arse?  With a lot of acrobatic movement let me tell you!  After squeezing, jumping, squirming and a lot of swearing they are finally over my arse.  I need a rest so decide I best sit down before attempting to get the damn things over my waist and tummy.  But sitting down can prove difficult when your thighs are squished so much the fat is pushing up towards your tummy.  After a brief rest I attempt to pull the damn things up above my waist - much more jumping about and they are up. Phew.  But now they have to go right up to under my bra. Jees - it's like a bloody work-out.  I'm exhausted.  I wrestle with the Spanx and they are finally on.  Hurrah - but I can't actually move or breath.  "It's OK, I will look super skinny" I think to myself and I look in the mirror. 

What a fucking disappointment.  I'm bright red after my aerobic workout to get the damn things on, sweating and look like a crazy lady. But do I look super duper skinny? Well, quite frankly, NO.  Do I fuck.   Now instead of having loads of blobs - I'm one BIG blob. From under my boobs right down to my thighs - one big roll of flab.  Nice. 

Now I have to get the damn things off (no wonder they come with a hole in the gusset to pee through, no way would I be able to get these things on and off all evening!) which results in my lying in a variety of positions on the bed (Tom would have thought his luck was in.  It wasn't.) and wrestling with a pair of Spanx.  Finally the awful things are off.  Flung on the floor in disgust.

I will, of course, be trying this all again tomorrow evening - it'll be easier to put on after a few vodkas.  Or maybe if I cover myself in oil I will just slide in?  I need to ensure I have room for my copious amounts of food and drink - I can see them being taken off during the course of the evening, after a few drinkies I won't care about my flabby bits anymore.  I suppose they make me who I am.  A fat, flabby, mum. Wahay!