Monday, January 3, 2011

I got Spanx'ed on New Year's Eve

Posted By on Mon, Jan 3, 2011 at 11:43 AM

While I love the start of a new year, I am not the biggest fan of New Year's Eve. It’s worse than Valentine’s Day when it comes to your friends coupling up — everyone and their mom comes out so all the bars are at fire code capacity with an inflated cover charge of $80. And all this pressure to kiss someone at midnight. We’re not on deadline like Cinderella.

But being the third wheel, I went and crashed a couple's bash at Butter.

Not really caring about the "holiday," I didn’t feel compelled to go out and buy a new dress, but rather recycled an old one from my party dress archives in my closet. I found a coral and gold BeBe dress that I bought back in my Carolina Panther TopCat days. Meaning, I was 10 pounds lighter. And when I tried it on, I was reminded of that.

I then remembered through my guilty pleasure reading of US Weekly while at Polished Nail Bar that my big booty friends, such as Kim Kardashian and J-Lo, swear by Spanx.

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When I bought the dress on Rodeo Drive the sales clerk actually said to me, “You look like Kim Kardashian in that dress.” That is what sold me on it. And then he suggested Spanx to keep me in case the dress clings to your body like a shrunken wet swimsuit.

But the friends I was shopping with told him he could suck it for even suggesting to me that I'd need them.

Well, I need them now in order to wear that dress. And I was determined to still fit into it. So, I went to Valeria. I know that sounds like a venereal disease, but it's actually a salon — the salon where my hair stylist, and Charlotte Magazine BOB Award winner for Best Stylist, Hudson works, and a place that sells the high power panties. I got the kind that covers your thighs to below the breast. It’s basically like a modern-day girdle with cellulite protection.

Putting them on was harder than squeezing into skinny jeans when you’re bloated, but with the delicateness of panty hose. That thing was so tight I don’t think I could fit food in my stomach without popping it.

First thing I noticed was a hole in the crotch so you can pee, and I immediately feared for the safety of my seal. I hoped I’d never break it because I was afraid to pee through that hole as I don’t have good aim and would likely pee in my high powered panties. And it would take me five minutes to squeeze out of the Spanx and another five minutes to get back in them.

I then noticed that they actually squeezed my butt in, like a sports bra for my ass. I was half tempted to cut holes in the butt cheeks of the Spanx … but my butt is big enough.

I sat down in the car to drive myself to meet the couples whose date I was crashing, and when I got out of the car and stood up I noticed that my dress had ridden up above the Spanx, making it appear as though I was wearing nude biker shorts. Just another something to be cautious off the rest of the night … great.

I pulled my dress down and adjusting my granny panties and walked into the Butter ball, making a B-line for the dance floor. Normally I’m a cutter of the rug, (or hardwood rather as most dance floors are hardwood, not rugs) but I could barely dance in the Spanx because they constricted my hips so much. And if anyone touched me around the waist I felt so embarrassed — as though they could feel my granny panty girdle under my dress. At this point I wanted to spank myself for attempting Spanx. Well, at least it beat having to suck in all night.

And the more I drank, the less I seemed to mind the Spanx.

I literally closed Butter. By the end of the night I was playing DJ with DJ Ciprian and helping the fine staff of Butter clean up.

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Am I sweeping the dance floor, dancing with a broomstick like Boogalo Shrimp from Breakin, or trying to fly, like a witch?

I was in Butter so late that the valet left with my keys. Not that I was intending to drive, but my house key is connected to my car key. Thus, I was locked out of my house.

I then had to go back to a friend's house all the way up at the lake, and sleep in my dress and Spanx. Note: Spanx are not lingerie.I woke up with my Spanx perfectly still intact and surprisingly, my circulation still flowing.

I walked upstairs and there were two little girls in the living room. Apparently they were visiting the owners of the house I was somewhat intruding on while being a gypsy without her keys. I said good morning, introduced myself and ending up cooking them some breakfast. My 2011 is off to a good start.

By the time I got back downtown, met with the valet who was hoarding my keys, and returned home – it was 2 p.m. before I could (literally) squeeze out of my Spanx. At least I managed to go the whole night (and morning) without peeing on them.

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