Okay, first let me say that I hate the word “chicks.” I am not a bird and neither is any other female I know, though some celebrities today are beginning to resemble them with their waif-like bones poking out. However, I thought it fitting in this title because, frankly, I’m a bit annoyed.
The other day my husband’s work had a picnic. I pulled out a dress I hadn’t had the guts to wear before and decided to throw caution to the wind and wear it. However, my stomach needed some flattening and my hips could stand a little tuck here and there. I reached into my drawer and pulled out my relatively new, modern black girdle, sure to hide even the peskiest of flaws, right? WRONG. After squeezing myself into this giant rubber band, and gasping once (quickly) for air, I put on my dress only to realize my fat was now squished ABOVE the girdle. I tried everything, pulling my bra strap down to cover it up, hiking the girdle up as close to my chin as possible, etc. Nothing worked. Regardless of what I did, something, somewhere, poked out.
That’s when I decided officially that girdles are made for people who are already skinny in the first place—women who don’t have the extra anything to hide can easily whip one of these on and strut their “stuff.” However, for the millions of women who are not inherently a size 4, girdles are simply a way to solve one problem while creating a different one. Seriously—is it worse to have a bulge, say, on your stomach where it belongs (figuratively), or squish it upward with a girdle only to look like you’re wearing a flotation device underneath your clothing?
Something to ponder…
Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, I ditched the girdle and the dress that day.