Postnatal
exercise is all very well. But when you’ve got a night out with your NCT girls
coming up- as I did, last weekend- then you need a quick fix. And when it comes
to quick fixes, there is only one thing that will work.
Head to your
nearest department store. Locate the lingerie department. Walk past the wispy
lace panties. Leave behind the silk satin thongs. Bid adieu to those scrappy
little suspender belts. Say au revoir to anything frilly, frivolous and fun.
Keep walking (for it is always right at the back) to the section labelled
“Shapewear”. This is your world now, and you must learn to navigate it.
There are
things here that look like torture devices. There are things that I can’t even
begin to figure out. There are things that words can’t describe. But all I
basically want is a pair of knickers with a wide “control” waistband that will
squash and flatten everything down and make me look like someone who hasn’t
just been pregnant for nine months. The control panties are arranged in three
columns; one labelled “Light Control”, another “Medium Control” and the third
“Firm Control.” I go straight for the firm; there’s no point messing about.
They are
flesh coloured, and hideous, obviously. But the waistband feels reassuringly
tight when I stick my hands in and try to stretch it. So far, so good. I glance
at the price tag. £45.00! For a pair of pants! I resist the urge to hang them
back up. I take them to the till, telling myself they’ll be worth every penny
if they work.
I haven’t
left myself any margin for error, as the night out (cool restaurant, swanky
cocktail bar) is happening that very night. By the time I’ve applied the
necessary amount of make-up and have battled my hair into some kind of
submission, I have exactly nine minutes until my taxi is due to arrive. Off
come the pyjama shorts. On go the fat pants. With the tags ripped off, obvs.
I look at
the front. It’s all pretty impressive. The flesh-coloured waistband has
whittled my waist into something approaching an hourglass shape and the front
control panel feels like it’s doing what it should. So far, so awesome. Until I
turn around and gasp in horror. Everyone gets a bit of VPL from time to time,
but this is on a whole new level. Each butt cheek is perfectly cut in half and
under a tight dress, my bottom will look very strange indeed.
I pull them
down. But now the waistband doesn’t work cover my abdomen and I have a hideous
muffin top. I pull them up again. The VPL returns. I have five minutes to go.
Shit, shit, shit.
I could take
them off and put a normal pair of pants on, of course. But from the front
everything is fine and letting it all hang out isn’t an option. There’s really
only one thing I can do. I grab a big pair of scissors from the kitchen. And I
convert the short-style back to a thong-style back. In other words- I’m just going to say it- I cut the arse out of my pants.
I put them
back on. They look terrible of course, but once my dress is on over the top,
everything looks fine. Well, better than usual, anyway.
Ironically,
a few days later I am in Asda and I decide to pick up a £5.00 version of the
same as my “spare pair”- can’t afford another £45.00 on knickers. Also, what
draws me to these is that they are labelled “No VPL!” which gives me some hope
that I may not meet the same pitfall that I did last time. I took them home and
tried them on and ladies, I can honestly say, they are bloody fantastic, and
they will be getting a lot more wear than my butchered £45.00 pair.
I guess the
moral of the story is, when it comes to control panties, expensive isn’t always
better, so don’t waste your valuable cocktail money. Go to Asda, grab a cheap
pair and go out and party. Because as long as those fat pants are hoisted up
around your wobbly bits, you’ll look great.
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