don't buy cheap SPANX

It was a Christmas Eve party, a legitimate occasion to take my new little black dress out for her maiden voyage.  I don't normally have occasions for a little black dress, so I felt daring, as one should, and body-shy, as one would.  So, while I was picking up cat food and evaporated condensed milk from Target, I grabbed a pair of generic SPANX. With my little black dress, I wore shiny black boots, black tights, and the black, off brand spanx pencil skirt.

I was all dressed up and feeling fancy.  I danced like a party girl with my own image in the bathroom mirror for a few minutes, free as the wind.  However, before I left the house, I covered little black dress with a sensible denim jacket, then weighed her down even further with a bobble necklace to counteract any va va voom she might be inclined to feel.  It was a family gathering after all.

The Christmas Eve party was great.  I mingled with family, saw Santa, indulged on appetizers, and incorrectly decorated a gingerbread house.  My cousin hosts an amazing party.  She has a gingerbread decorating station that makes you feel like you've just entered Candyland.  I couldn't resist the fun.  I didn’t realize I was supposed to break the one large, pre-packaged piece of gingerbread into smaller pieces, then candy glue them together to form a 3 dimensional house.  The word decorate a gingerbread "house" was lost on me.  What I saw was a big, flat, tallish windowed cookie and I just assumed I was decorating the front of an apartment building.  It seemed a little urban and non traditional, but at the same time politically correct.  House and home are words often used to describe any place of residence.

Adult party goers perused the kid friendly gingerbread station where I parked myself.  They glanced a little longer at my design than the other kids which made me feel a little bit like a show off.  They'd say with a smile, “Oh...look at yours…” and I was thinking to myself, "It’s good, but not that good, let's focus on the kids."  After that person walked away, my daughter very sweetly pointed out to me that I was not doing it right.  Hearing this, I finally looked up from my work and saw her pop-up structure.  In between her giggles she said, “It’s okay Mom, maybe you should just walk away, you could pretend a little kid made it.”  

Being ashamed of your work is not a good lesson to teach your kids so, I thought I would teach my daughter the art of holding your head high and believing in your work.  So, I sat at the table with my back straight, and when people passed by to chat about our designs, I explained plainly, that I decorated an apartment building. No biggie.

Anyway, little black dress, in cahoots with generic spanxs, did what they do well. They made me feel sucked in and smooth, conservative and sassy.  A little Jackie and a little Pamela.

We got home from our evening out and I headed to the bedroom to take off my heeled boots, peel out of my spanx and snuggle into my Christmas-scene flannel pajamas.  I took my denim jacket off first and in the mirror, I noticed I looked unusually lumpy around the middle.  I lifted my dress off and realized that throughout the course of the night, my black generic spanx had shimmied their way up my tights and over my hips, where they landed in the shape of an inner-tube upon my waist, creating what can only be described as, a muffin top.