If you have read Episode 1, you already know the virtues of Spanx and why I sing their praises. Women all over the world will testify that Spanx have the power to turn back time and return parts of yourself to some place nearer to their former glory. Spanx can get you into your favorite pants. Spanx can minimize the destruction that producing human beings has ravaged upon your abs. Spanx can restore your confidence for hours at a time. Spanx are from God.
However, all Spanx are not created equal. For instance, generic spanx won’t cut it. They just don’t have that secret, space-age ingredient that knows how to sequester your chub, with a google maps-type precision and banish it to parts unknown. If you buy yourself some generic spanx, they will surrender too soon and roll up over your thigh chub at about 9:47 PM, leaving you looking like you have rubber bands on under your pants. Or, after a few hours, they will allow your muffintop to have the final say and roll suddenly and thunderously down under the best part of the muffin, most likely when you are shaking hands with the most important person in the room. So I say, buy the big guns or don’t even bother.
Even inside the Spanx enterprise, there are several levels of Spanx to attain to. For instance, for the serious, I-don’t-mess-around gals, there are next-level versions of Spanx that can do things you could only dream of. I graduated, as it were, to a sophomore level of Spanx when I purchased the version with rear contouring. What that means is, these Spanx have cast-iron, cup-shaped backsides that can actually lift your assets to a place close to where they used to be. Are you kidding me? Do you mean that even if I sit on my couch and eat chips all week, I can wrestle myself into my ultra-butt-altering Spanx on Friday night and play a show as if I was someone who even owned a sports bra??? I’m in. Oh, I’m in.
I play with an all girl trio called Yer Mom and we don cowboy cutie garb for every show. Jeans and some sort of boots are always a part of the costume and we happily oblige. One night, at a show in Salida, Colorado, I slipped to the bathroom before we kicked off our first set. When I undid my cowgirl belt, I was puzzled by what I discovered. My abs, tucked safely inside my Spanx, had formed into two cinnamon-bun-type structures, there in the front of my pants. I stared at my abdominal region for several moments trying to figure out what was going on. It was about 2 minutes ‘til showtime when it dawned on me that my ultra-butt-lifting Spanx were on backwards. What the heck?!? This was the exact opposite of what I was going for. Instead of shoving my chub up into my internal organs, I had put it on display, like two chubby balloons, in the front of my pants. Not cool, Michelle. With one minute ‘til showtime, there was no chance I could wrestle out of my boots, jeans and Spanx and right this wrong in time. I had to march back out there and not exhale until my guitar was squarely in front of those-abs-gone-wrong. I think I kept my guitar on even after the show, just so I wouldn’t frighten anyone.
Why don’t Spanx come with instructions? They stamp the label right onto the fabric, to save much needed space, but if you are a frequent wearer, like me, you might wear off that label and accidentally make your muffintop into ab-cinnamon buns! Not cool, Spanx! I think there should be a warning siren that goes off if you happen to put your Spanx on backwards. I hope their marketing department will take my idea into consideration.
I’m still a hard core fan. There is no other single garment I have donned, in my entire life, that has imparted to me such a sense of accomplishment, boldness and destiny. In my Spanx, I can go to the meetings and not worry about sitting up perfectly straight. I can perform at the concerts and imagine that my baby-bearing abs do not have tiger stripes and their own zip code. I can make speeches and presentations as if I am a girl who sips soda water with lemon wedges and laughingly waves off the candy. I am someone else in my Spanx and I am so grateful for that opportunity.
I am overwhelmed by the secret Spanx stories that are flooding into my inbox! Episode 3 will be comprised entirely of your Spanx stories, as seems only fitting.
This is so funny. The cinnamon bun thing is the best. It seems like some sort of accidental Princess Leia/Madonna situation. I feel scared when I imagine myself in Spanx.
Spanx for men are more undershirt-y to keep the beer bellies in check. They’re quite oppressive.
Spanx for men is more of a tank top, smoothing kind of thing.