As a rule of thumb, I don't dress up that much. I am short and stumpy, and somewhat lumpy. With no beautiful attributes to behold, I can say without malice that one part of my body just blends in with another. At work, I am only one step up from casual and on the weekend, I am your typical small town hoody and jeans type of girl. With a secret fantasy of my legs growing longer and my body becoming fabulous, I hoard away my share of accessories. Purses, jewelry, shoes, shawls, scarves, you name it. If it is feminine, its sitting in my closet pining for a day it will actually be used.
So, when I was invited to a Murder Mystery party this past weekend by a friend of ours who really is the hostess with the mostest, I knew that I would have to bring my A GAME in the dressing up department! With the accessories needed to spruce this average girl up to a 1905 flirtatious tramp named Chastity Darling, I knew that the only thing missing was the clothes to cover my rather less than desirable body. So with credit card in hand, I tromped off to the local clothing store.
The moment I walked through the store, I instantly heard the sound of angels followed by a blinding light coming down from the heavens and shining on "IT" in all it's 1920ish glory. Beautiful beyond words, delicate in appearance, the black and lace frock with a kick out at the bottom portrayed the look of a bygone era. With my size in hand, I ventured into the change room and tried it on! And wouldn't you know it, the bloody thing fit!!! I stood and viewed myself with a tiny bit of admiration until I moved in the mirror. What was that I thought... It couldn't be? It can't be? Oh my lord it is!!!! The only thing holding me and this beautiful frock from creating a binding love affair was the nasty betrayal of my jelly belly that was wiggling to and fro with every movement. And just as I was about to declare defeat and send it back to it's place on display, words of wisdom were shouted from the great beyond, better known as my mother: GET A GIRDLE FOR GAWD SAKES!!!!
Huh? They still make those? Really? So as I scampered around the store, wouldn't you know that they had a seamless and promise to show no lines, guarantee to thin you by two sizes, spandexly happy version of the modern day girdle.
So with dress, nylons and girdle in hand, I arrived home to start the process of transforming this average woman into a character worth remembering.
Laying out all my wares on our bed, I scooched my better half out of the room, and emphatically stated "No matter what you hear, whether it be grunting, groaning, whining and howling, DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR!!!" Good lord it was bad enough that I had to witness the debacle of moving fat around on my body let alone subject my better half and cause him permanent blindness. So with box in hand, I opened it to reveal a two inch by two inch square of stretchable fabric. Was this it? Seriously, I was suppose to get that around all of my body? Never one to back down from a challenge, I stepped one leg into the 16th century torture contraption. And with another leg in, I yanked, I squeezed, I tugged, I pulled, I sweated, I groaned, and I even whimpered once or twice until that two inch by two inch thing was made into a two foot by two foot thing which was then yanked unceremoniously up my body and secured into place. With my stomach now pushed up into my breasts and my breasts now pushed up into my throat, I was ready to venture out.
At the dinner party, it became painfully obvious that with cutting off all amount of circulation to my stomach, the food was resting somewhere between my boobs and my mouth. As the minutes ticked on and on, I could feel my stomach collecting gas and trying to expand beneath the torture device that was holding it securely in place. With a shift here and a shift there, I felt light headed and dizzy and I was sure that a fart was going to explode out through my nostrils! I moved from hip to hip and leaned as far back as I could in a desperate attempt to find some type of relief. I spoke to my body silently willing it to conform, to adjust, to please just be good! But as the night progressed, I could feel my fat bubble into other free areas of my body. I was developing a new form of a muffin top, a second set of boobs, and third double chin, GOOD LORD MY FRIENDS, I WAS GOING TO EXPLODE!!!
And just as I thought I couldn't take it anymore, the game was over!!! And with a run from my chair, I grabbed my bag that contained jeans and a hoody and comfy undies and sprinted to the bathroom to make my change from gaseous trollop to everyday average girl.
And as I stood there in my lovely friends' washroom, all halloweened up, I did the only thing a really comfortable friend would do, I took off the girdle and let my rather large patooty explode!!! And as my body parts then settled back into their regular roles, I proceeded to jump around like a maniac trying to wave the rather nauseous scent away, then I rejoined the group, prayed nobody needed the bathroom soon, drank some wine and relaxed.
And what I can say my friends is that in the battle of Woman versus Girdle, that damn Girdle won!!! Well sort of that is because when I got home and deposited my nemesis into the garbage, this woman snidely looked at the evil little thing and said "you may have won the battle my friend, but your off to the incinerator which means that I won the war!!"
And then I walked away cackling!
Until Next Time.