beautiful, colorful dress that I purchased from JCPenny. Because of the dress straps I had wear a strapless bra. The one I wore was too tight in the back and kept falling down in the front but it did its job. Next I put on one of those body-hugging pairs of underwear that go all the way up to your boobs. I tucked it right under my bra. As long as I stood straight I looked great but one wrong move and my bra was dropping and the body-hugging underwear began to roll down.
Because I failed to get nylons “in the big city” I had to purchase some at the Dollar General store because in a small town you don’t have many options. I figured it was no big deal; wearing generic nylons would be okay for a day. Well it was a big deal. The package said “one size fits all,” that should have been my first clue that buying them was a bad idea. They looked fine when I took them out of the package and they even looked good when I had them on up past my knees. But the major problem was that I couldn’t get them over my ass.
The package should have said, “One size fits all-women who are 5
foot tall and weigh 100 pounds. I pulled and tugged until I had them ripped to shreds. I then dug through my drawers but found no other nylons except for a pair of thigh-highs which I bought a long time ago but never wore. I put them on and instantly felt uncomfortable. They were so tight they created mini-muffin-tops on my upper thighs which caused them to stick together and rub when I walked. It was pure hell. I topped off the thigh-highs with a pair of black pumps that were a bit too small and instantly hurt my feet.
I was so upset leaving the house that I forgot the wedding card.
Thankfully when we got to my in-laws to drop off the kids, my mother-in-law saved the day by giving me a pair of normal, comfortable,
hug-you-in-the-right-spots, nylons. I could have gone without nylons but my pasty white legs looked nasty and my shoes wouldn’t have rubbed even worse.
So I sat like a statue at the wedding reception trying to be careful not to move or breathe too heavily. I was constantly tugging and pulling at the items under my dress that were supposed to make me look like a
million bucks. One moment of relaxing would have meant literally letting it all hang out and I didn’t want that to happen. So I sat there and conversed with others, pretending nothing was going on under my dress, when in fact a storm was brewing.
We left the reception after a few hours and I walked barefoot to the car ruining the pair of nylons I had on. I could now breathe and move and it
felt wonderful. Why do I put myself through such awful things? I’m not sure; it’s always been that way for me and I don’t think it will ever
change. I am woman, hear me whine.
Have a sensational Sunday!