CLAMPDOWN

Tuesday night, I met some girlfriends for dinner.

Talk immediately turned to the wedding I just attended and the bridesmaid's dress. More importantly, appropriate foundations. We all grew up in a culture where women wore girdles while pregnant, to give you some background.

So, I told them the story of my amazing spandex garment, a vulcanized rubber (not really) contraption that got me through my own wedding, panties (hah!) going down to the thighs and up to just under the bra -- crotch cut out by moi for easy bathroom ventures (a trick I learned from my little sister, who went shopping with me for said garment).

Picture this: getting ready for a wedding in a wood-paneled motel room (clean and cute and roomy) with a tiny bathroom. The room had an air conditioner but it didn't sufficiently cool the bathroom. Not for the ensuing spandex contraption wrestling. So, there's Andy getting ready for the wedding in the room and me, looking at the dress, the spandex, the tiny bathroom and finally conceding that the contraption will have to be put on in the same room as my husband.

"Don't look!" I tell him, more like command him.

"What?" He says, turning around.

"YOU CAN'T LOOK! TURN AROUND!" I shriek.

After a good wrestle, I have the contraption on, but it needs a little something so, while standing behind Andy's back I instruct him not to look at me but to yank up the back of the contraption -- yes, without looking.

He obliges. I married a good one.

We laugh and laugh because, even if you have not been in that situation, you can imagine it.

Then everyone shares stories of spandex and I tell them that I have found the ultimate garment: a tunic-length camisole that sucks you in like no tomorrow! It's my new best friend.

The girls oh and ah at my find and make me promise to send them the det's (brand, store, etc) when I get home.

We talk about how we've been tempted to buy the "belly band" for our pants, even though we're not in the maternity way. I tell them how I'm tempted to send my jeans into that company that will convert them into maternity jeans with a simple addition of an elastic band. We laugh at the cute line of maternity clothes at Target -- that has a huge following of women who aren't pregnant. The only thing that stops us from purchasing such clothes is their popularity -- what would be worse than someone recognizing the clothing line?

That's when I decide to confess -- I am known for my confessions (always at my expense and the more embarrassing the better). I also bought, and was wearing, control-panel jeans. Which lead to many questions about their construction and the one pitfall -- yes, it sucks in the gut but it accentuates the muffin-top. Oh, the things we do to ourselves.

There's no turning back now!