The Devil Wears L'Eggs

You read that correctly...I said L'Eggs. Pantyhose, specifically, control top because if you are of a particular age (and shape)  then you need all the help the retailers can offer. Now I know that the younger set has disdained wearing pantyhose in favor of bare legs and comfort. I get it. I'm all for the comfort. If you are in my age bracket, you were raised to understand that when you dress for an office, a wedding, a funeral, etc, in something besides a sun dress then you WILL wear pantyhose to cover your legs. Read along young girls...I am your future.

In order to go bare (legged) it seems to me that you should have those legs in fair shape. They would be somewhat toned and not Arctic white. You don't want to have any shaving nicks on the shin, no softball scars on your knees and oh, that scar from the cool bunk beds with metal rails that your kids really had to have? No. Don't pass this list of criteria? Me either. Read on.

So you are going to an event, let's say your son's scholarship awards luncheon. Important stuff, worth a new fabulous dress that fits like a glove. One that your sister, the seamstress, kindly designed and made for you. Pics will be included. Well, it fits beautifully if you include a pair of control top pantyhose and the High Powered - High Waisted Power Spanx! Beauty is pain girls. 

You shower, you powder, you primp and your hair is just perfect. It's a lovely day, sunshiny and 82 degrees which means that upstairs in your bedroom it's about 87 degrees and the air is not working. Ok, that fan is on high, all is well. Husband is shaving and you commence the countdown to liftoff. Bra - on. Pantyhose.......damn it! Get the hand lotion because you have a rough spot on your hands and you got a snag already. Ok, leg gathered and insert foot...damn it! Get the ped egg and smooth that #@?&* callus on your heel. Now stand in front of the fan because you're having a hot flash and it's physically impossible to put pantyhose on a sweaty leg. I tried it once in 1984, in July, in my car! Bad day.

Homeland Security should use this instead of waterboarding, much more effective. Those terrorist would be crying like a baby!

One leg in and pulled up and onto the second! Gather in the hands and.....damn it! You can't bend your other leg up high enough to get it in! OMG, cramp in the foot! Sweating again, Jesus H., time to chill in front of the fan. Worse than childbirth. Now your husband comes to help you bend that leg and shove it, oh so gently, into your carefully gathered handfull of sheer leg covering. Rest. A glass of wine at this point would be Nirvana. More fan time.

The Spanx. This must be like stuffing sausage casing by hand. Gather, pull and tug. Rest. Fan. Pull and tug. No slouching once the High Powered Spanx are in place because the waist band (just under the bra) might roll and that would be ugly. At this point you thank God for Super AquaNet because with any lesser product, your hair would be in shambles. Husband zips you in and off you go, sucking on an oxygen bottle.

In the car, no seat belt (are you joking) no slouching, as straight as possible. Jump out of the car upon arrival. Accept all compliments on your appearance in an offhand manner. This is my sister, Lorrie (aka June cleaver) she hates attention so please don't mention that I posted her picture for all the world to see.
blog comments powered by Disqus