Shapewear is Evil

I probably shouldn't have eaten dinner before I went shopping for shapewear the other day.  For the uninitiated, shapewear is specialized underwear whose main purpose in life is to mold a person's body into a more attractive shape using strategically placed control panels of lycra and spandex.  Used appropriately (meaning, if you get the right size and type for your figure), shapewear smooths out unflattering bulges, accentuates curves (in the right places) and provides a nice line beneath your clothing.

Did I mention:  If you get the right size?

Now, I support a thin woman's right to purchase shapewear; after all, they deserve a smoother line, too, but what I can't understand is why every store I have gone to in the last two weeks (5 of them) has tons of smaller sizes and very, very few of the larger.  Sears at Ala Moana had RACKS of the stuff in preparation for prom season and though there were dozens of 34B in different styles and colors, there were maybe a total of five in sizes that an ample woman could wear.  One would think that the larger woman is the target audience here.  One would think.

I need a beige colored piece to wear under my chorus costume.  We are going to competition next month and any other color would be very visible under the thin purple material of our tops.  Naturally, I have black, but not beige.  I thought I'd lucked out when I saw the display at Sears and though I was disappointed at the lack of selection in my size, I did find two that I thought would work. 

Did I mention that shapewear also comes in different "controls?"  Light control is when you need a bit of a tuck, medium is for slightly stubborn bulges and firm is for those who have come to realize that gravity is not a friend.  My first choice was just all wrong--it was too sheer on top and wasn't long enough for me.  The second choice was, unbeknownst to me, firm control. 

If I had been thinking more clearly, I would have pulled it up from the bottom (as it should be), rather than attempt to make an over-the-head entry.  If you can imagine about 783 thick, heavy-duty rubber bands stretched around your head, holding your arms against your face, you have begun to understand the evil that is shapewear. 

I was fortunate that my right arm was extended at a slightly higher angle than my left; by bending my wrist as far downward as I could go, I managed to grasp the material and gave it a good yank.  I'm glad I wasn't wearing earrings that night. 

Shapewear 2.  Judy 0.