There are certain things that women wear that aren’t exactly sexy, but practical. A few of these being: pantyhose, sticky boobs and spanx. Sometimes these just have to be worn, especially to events where elaborate gowns and clothes are worn. I mean I haven’t been to a ball or prom in a hot minute, but some people do. This is all good and dandy, but my thoughts are what happens when you are strapped into all of this nude, constricting gear and then decide you want to go home with someone.
Here you are, in this gorgeous dress with an equally fabulous man and you realize (s*#t) what am I wearing under here. I have never actually been put into this situation, mostly due to premeditated mortification, but I have thought about it a lot. Is it weird that I have thought about this a lot? Whatever.
I see a few different scenarios playing out. The first option being that you quickly excuse yourself to the bathroom and rid yourself of all of these undergarments. Pantyhose, cya, thats not too much of an issue, worst case you freeze your ass off for twenty minutes. Stickyboobs on the other hand could put you in a pickle. I think this all depends on the color you’re wearing and how stacked you are. You could rip them off and go on your merry way, praying to sweet Jesus himself that there isn’t a forceful air conditioning vent. Or, you could realize this is very inappropriate, your nipples are staring everyone in the eyes and leave them on.
Spanx is a whole different ball game. I have never personally put them on. I feel that it would be like trying to encase your thighs and stomach in a condom that’s too small. Then while you are gasping for air and circulation you still have to sit, smile and talk to people. Thanks, but no thanks. Spanx aren’t easy to ditch though, and they will also make your outfit look way different. Not too mention those hideous things are not cheap. Dilemmas, dilemmas.
So let’s say you keep them on. You go home with this very charming man for him to find you in spanx and sticky boobs. He approaches you and then forcefully tries to take off your spanx like a strenuous game of tug-of-war. If that’s not a mood killer I’m not really sure what is. Anyways, he then strips you of all of your beige spandex and you pray to god this never is spoken of again.
Is that what happens or did I make that all up? I’m not sure. Maybe men are less fazed by this stuff than women are. Can someone just put me out of my pondering misery and fill me in, thanks!