It’s been years since she’s stuffed herself into Lycra. Here’s why she swore off it
I have an anniversary to celebrate. No, it’s not a milestone birthday. It’s not even a major wedding landmark. It’s better.
I’m a woman who has gone 10 years — an entire decade — not wearing any shape-wear.
Yes, 10 years ago this month, I swore off squeezing myself into the Lycra demon where, through the miracle of elastane and compression, a person can smush parts of their body until breathing becomes problematic.
Some of you may refer to this demon as SPANX, others might go old-school and call it a girdle. If you work at Macy’s in the women’s lingerie department, it’s referred to as a “foundation garment.”
Whatever name you want to give this instrument of torture, just know that I’ve been blissfully free from its cruelty for 3,650 days and counting.
My journey to shape-wear freedom was rather perilous. It took a near-death experience to make me realize I needed to stop my abusive behavior.
The catalyst for change was an event that required me to wear an evening gown. To get the gown to fit properly (or properly by society’s standards), I made the decision to wear three pieces of shape-wear.
First up was a bodysuit. This meant from just below my clavicle to my mid thigh, I was encased in elastane. Then, because I thought my stomach region needed a little bit more compression, I added a high-waisted brief to further smoosh me in.
All this squashing resulted in a game of Tetris because the compression in the front of the body forced what I was trying to flatten to my back, resulting in some unwanted lumps and bumps.
But then when I tried to smoosh those lumps and bumps down by adding another layer of Lycra in the form of a back “smoother” — those lumps and bumps were shoved right back to my stomach region.
It was very frustrating and if I didn’t have a face full of makeup on I would have cried. But instead I made the executive decision to soldier on wearing all three layers of shapewear. Yes, my stomach wasn’t perfectly flat but I was trading some flatness for fewer lumps in my back.
At this point it didn’t matter that taking a full inhale and exhale would be challenging or that going to the bathroom was going to be a nightmare requiring me to almost fully undress to complete the task.
A mere 15 minutes later as I was driving downtown for the event, I realized I couldn’t breathe. I panicked, as one would, and started ripping off my clothes. First off was the high-waisted brief. Once that came off, I calmed down enough to pull fully off the road and take off the back smoother.
The hard part was peeling off the bodysuit. I had sweated so much while panicking that it felt like it was Gorilla Glued to my torso. Finally, with sheer brute strength, I got it off and put my dress back on so I wouldn’t get arrested for indecent exposure.
It was at that exact moment I knew I was done with trying to squeeze, smoosh, compress and cram my body into some inane standard of what I woman should look like. From that day on, I have been shape-wear free.
This decision resulted in a liberation that extended beyond shape-wear. It gave me the strength to shun shoes that hurt and any article of clothing that didn’t make me feel happy. Now when I go out, I actually enjoy events. It’s amazing what being able to breathe will do for you.
Reach Sherry Kuehl at snarkyinthesuburbs@gmail.com, on Facebook at Snarky in the Suburbs @snarkynsuburbs, on Instagram @snarky.in.the.suburbs, and snarkyinthesuburbs.com.