I am embarrassed to admit it, but I was weak and succumbed to peer pressure many years ago. Everybody else seemed to be doing it, so it must have been the right thing to do, so I did. Yes, I bought shape wear. Please don’t judge me harshly for once trying to wear the very thing I now advise my clients to avoid.
It all starts innocently enough, and typically with the following thought:
“This dress will be prefect if I wear ______________(insert brand name), shape-wear”.
If I had a dollar for each time I heard a woman say this, I would have enough money to buy a beach house on an exotic island.
Have you ever thought that putting on a compression garment will solve the issue of your body parts not being as flat and stable as you would like? Somehow many of our body parts have slowly evolved into bowls of jelly, along with all the jiggles and wiggles that can make us dizzy and distressed.
I don’t know about you, but I hate shape-wear.
As far as I am concerned it might as well be called torture-wear. It all started when I bought the high-waisted shape-wear panties that went from my belly button down to my mid thighs, because all the other girls were doing it. I thought my body would be rivaling that of an underwear model, once I eased my bandaged and bondaged body into the dress I was hoping to pull off without a hint of excess fat.
I looked like a lava lamp
And then, there I was with a stomach as flat as a board, upper thighs smooth as sheets of ice and my extra blubber billowing out over the waistband and below the bottom band on my thighs. I looked like a living lava lamp, oozing and swirling up and down along the middle of my body. Somehow I had a gained a wedgie in my muffin top. How is that even possible?
And don’t get me started about the struggle to get in and out of that thing.
Clearly this was not the solution to my need to fit into that beautiful dress, so I had to make a decision and stick with it, as opposed to viewing my excess flesh staying stuck on the spandex of that darn two-foot long panty.