Because it’s not a good idea and I’ll tell you why. Some of you have read my previous musings on this subject. I’m asking you to stay with me while I fill in the newcomers and then I will broaden the scope, so to speak.

Several years ago, my daughters convinced me to try wearing a thong. My husband and I were about to attend a wedding of some colleagues of his. This was just a couple of years after my “crash of ’03.” I had been existing in a fairly sedentary state and hadn’t been out for an occasion in some time. I went to the closet for the most suitable and recent “dress-up” clothing I could find and emerged with a plum colored knit sheath that my husband and kids had given me for Christmas a few years earlier. Like an episode of “Designed to Sell” (I watch a lot of HGTV.) my girls went to Payless and Kmart and updated my look on a budget, returning home with some bone colored shoes and a matching bag and the aforementioned thong, which they insisted was the only considerate thing to do for the sake of anyone looking in my direction. So I presented myself to the public that day with no visible panty line, but the fact is that added pounds and lack of exercise had produced a female landscape with considerable lumps. I knew that I looked like some bad gravy, but it was, after all, the bride’s day. I won’t go into the discomfort that I experienced due to that tiny little undergarment; suffice it to say, that I was really glad to get home and extract that little strip of material from its area of residence. 

The moral of the story for me was: don’t try to wear figure skimming knit sheaths if you want to be comfortable in your underwear. 

My stepson’s wedding in October of ’07 afforded me a new opportunity to attempt the use of a specialty undergarment to make myself presentable to the public for a special occasion. This is a product in the classification known as “Shapewear”, which is really just a euphemism for “large sausage casing.” I selected a model that is supposed to cover the area just below the bra line to the mid thigh. Now, it has been well established that I am a romantic, a nostalgic, an idealist and a believer in happy endings. Therefore I didn’t even bat an eye or raise an eyebrow while being sold on the idea that donning this particular article would erase and/or beautifully contain all the muffin top, back fat, flabbiness etc., in order to present the kind of figure to the public that would have normally required years of regular exercise and sensible eating to achieve. I was not even daunted by that fact that when I removed this “miracle worker” from its packaging, it was the size of a piece of toast! Such a believer am I! 

This product did not have any warnings posted on its package, so I consider it my public service duty to suggest a few for the unknowing users. First of all, if you have any heart or respiratory health issues, consult your physician before attempting to use this product. Getting this garment relocated to the desired portions of your body is an extremely intense cardio workout that could be damaging to your self esteem. The second warning is to allow at least 2 hours before the commencement of your event when inserting yourself into this article of clothing. The first hour for actually getting it on, the second hour is for touch-ups to your hairdo, reapplication of deodorant, blotting all the sweat with a towel and a general “cooling off” period to recompose yourself. That the manufacturer is aware of the contortions and block of time required to “suit up” in this thing becomes apparent by the deliberate opening in the crotch designed to be used when one has to, (how shall I put this delicately?) – pee! This is available because the alternative of pulling it down and back up again whenever you might have to tinkle would cause you to spend the entirety of your special day in the bathroom which would make people think that you had an entirely different kind of problem. 

Now, what to do if you actually did have that kind of problem is another matter. My best suggestion would be to carry a small scissors in your evening bag and cut the casing away from your body for a quick descent unto the toilet seat. Once your mission is accomplished, just let your river of flesh flow freely. Hopefully this will occur at a point in the event when all the significant moments and photo ops have passed and everyone present is drunk enough to be dancing shamelessly in ways best left to the young. 

I keep coming back to the same conclusion. In our culture obsessed with maintaining a figure so that 60 becomes the new 40, I think of all those movies wherein the story line has the protagonists visiting some quaint, old culture, village to meet extended family and obtain some kind of blessing. There is always some sort of dinner scene that gathers all the folks together and invariably there resides a matriarch who receives deferential treatment from everyone around. She is usually seated in a quiet corner. The respect for her wisdom and counsel is evident. She is served and doted upon. There is no need for her to parade a youthfully preserved figure to win approval. She is above all that now and everyone knows it. Instead she remains in her chair, full and fleshy, ensconced in a loose gathered skirt and a brightly embroidered shawl. Her significance is unquestioned. And it is my humble opinion, that down through the ages, such revered, womanly, elders have always held court in a completely “au natural” state under the folds of all that voluminous material and that it was such a state that caused the very first “Mona Lisa smile” to be smiled. 

Give it some thought.