Wrestle a dress

I’ve been defeated, and let me tell you it wasn’t pretty.

Actually, it was a pretty dress. It is still a pretty dress. And after I tried it on the first time, and was packing it up to send back because clearly my idea of a size XX dress, and the dress company’s idea didn’t jive, my husband said, “Wait, you can do it.
You can lose the few pounds, it’ll be a great goal.”

My husband is a coach, works out every day and is VERY high energy so I’m pretty sure he burns fat when he blinks or breathes.

Great idea, I thought. He’s right, I can do it.

Here I am a week outside of the date when I wanted to wear the dress, drenched in sweat because of the crazy underwear contraptions I just tried on and that sucker doesn’t fit.

I can’t blame this entirely on my husband though. I admitted to my girl friends the other night that the dress wasn’t going to fit and I really wanted to wear it next weekend.

Get the ‘squeeze the poop out of you’ underwear, they said. It takes 10 pounds off and it feels great.

Great idea, I thought. They’re right, this will work.

Images of me zipping up the dress and looking like a supermodel soon rose to my mind (where I grew six inches taller in all that, I’ll never know).

Whoever thought of this ‘underwear’ might just as well call it a straightjacket. That is, if you can even get it on your body.

I once put a wet suit on inside out and had to switch it right side out. I remember thinking that was bad. Turns out, THAT was nothing.

Think caterpillar blossoming out of the cocoon, but without any grace or beauty at the end. The whole time I was squeezing into this ‘underwear,’ I was thinking – what if I can’t get out of it. Is it appropriate for my 10-year-old son to use the scissors on these things? Would that experience scar a kid?

The new ‘underwear’ didn’t work. Still couldn’t zip up the dress all the way. At this point, I’m thinking fine, I’ll wear an old dress no big deal.

Vanity kicked in somewhere between wriggling/wrestling myself out of the alleged ‘underwear’ that’ll make you 10 pounds thinner and wondering if it might be the weather – hot, humid.

Let’s try the bra that I wore with my wedding dress.

Great idea, I thought. That’ll work, I think.

Note to self and others who think that your wedding attire will fit after 15 years of marriage, three kids and a career of sitting in front of a computer: It doesn’t fit. It won’t fit. Don’t bother trying.

Needless to say, I’ve got some great new pretty pricey ‘underwear’ that makes me look like I’m 68 years old and a lovely dress that may look really good repurposed as a pillow.

I’m wearing an old dress. And having a candy bar.