Monday, October 31, 2005

Attack of the Killer Underwire

Note to my male relatives: Go read this instead.

So Mr. McGee and I were invited to a black tie ball, sort-of last minute, and I had to rush out to get a dress. The dress wasn't actually a problem; I found a real stunner that wasn't terribly expensive (hooray for post-Homecoming clearance!). But I decided I needed a foundation garment to smoosh my bulgy bits. I don't typically wear dresses, formal or otherwise, that require complex underthings, as I am of the opinion that petticoats, corsets, slips, bloomers, chemises, hoops, braes, corset covers, drawers, shifts, crinolines, combies, camisoles, bustles, garter belts, garters, and all their ilk went out with the Victorians for good reason. It's the 21st century; if my dress can't manage to hold things up, down, in, out, and back all on its own, it is a failure of modern clothing technology.

Still, the bulgy bits could use some smooshing, so I went to Victoria's Secret (see? there's those Victorians again!) in search of a smoosher - one of those lycra body tubes, you know? Sort of like a slip, but smooshy. Some searching produced the appropriate size of smoosher, and I repaired to the dressing rooms to wriggle into it, as the smoosher is not technologically advanced enough to only smoosh after it as been donned. Managed to get the thing properly positioned, everything nicely smoothed out and - OW!

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!

Underwire + strong lycra + tender skin + rib bones = EXTREME PAIN!

Yes, the underwire of the smoosher was being spandexed into my underbreast so hard that I could barely breath without screaming in pain. I wrestled out of the damned thing and discovered that in the 30 seconds I had had it on, the underwire had created an impressive bruise under my boob! In fact, I initially thought it may have broken a darn rib because it was so continuingly painful to breathe and tender to the touch for several hours afterwards.

Needless to say, I did not purchase the smoosher, I went to the ball with my bulgy bits free to bulge as they chose (curves being preferable to bruises, in my opinion), and I have now mentally relegated "smooshers," with all their 21st-century technology, to the same dustheap of history as all Victorian underthings. My bruise is now fading, but I'm still traumatized by the spandex/underwire combo. Bah! If it can't be held in place with a bra and panties, God clearly did not intend it to be held in place.

3 comments:

Star said...

Oh. My. Word. Short of possibly my wedding gown (which didn't require that sort of undergarment anyway, just a standard backless bra), I can't think of anything I would actually be willing to wear underwear that bruised me for. Did they actually test these things on real, actual women before putting them on the market? I mean, you would think that's something that would sort of come to light via those methods...

Anonymous said...

Not all smooshers are created equal. Your mistake was going to Victoria's Secret (her secret is that she is a big slut, by the way). Victoria Secret was created for teeny boppers and women who consider Cosmo Magazine fine reading. I swear by my smoosher. No underwires, very light, comfy, quite high tech. I love it and feel incredibly sexy when I wear it. Plus, it centers and up lifts "The Girls" giving both a waist and cleavage. I understand the sentiment that sliming devices are torture devices created by men and in previous ages I would have agreed. Eyebrows, the technology in this area is incredible! Go to a good Department Store. Try Spanx, or any of the other space age polymer brands. I won't wear anything that causes me harm/pain either, but when I wear my smoosher I feel POWERFUL!

Anonymous said...

pictures?! lol