I pulled a package off the rack and closed myself into the fitting room. I stepped in - delightfully smooth, I would say- and I started to pull them up. I pulled on one side, and then I pulled on the other side. And then I got to my hips.
And then I gave up.
There was no way my large, child-birthing (not that I've actually had any children yet) hips were going to magically compress themselves enough to fit into that tube of fabric. I would've had to use plastic and a blow-dryer. Not happenin'.
I returned that size to the rack. And, refusing to be defeated, I returned to the fitting room with a larger size. They pulled riiiiiiight up. Maybe they didn't smooth out so much, but they sure did fit better. So I stuck with that set, because it didn't make me want to die. Or hack pieces of my hips off to squeeze into them.
I went to the seamstress today with my bridesmaid and my mom, and I took my handy-dandy Spanx. I stuffed myself into them and strapped them on. I popped my wedding dress on. And it looked GREAT!
So then I went home. I went into my bedroom to change, and then I realized... I OWN SOME SPANX! I looked in the closet and noticed how many dresses I own that I don't wear because I'm a chub-o and my tummy sticks out. Or my hips stick out. Or both.
I started to grab dresses of the rack and stack them on the bed.
And then I tried on every dress in my closet. And I look A-MAZING! (channeling Oprah here; please picture that)
So I've made a decision. I wear a dress = I wear Spanx = I look terrific. Yay!