Someday I’ll tell my kids about that time I passed out at Aunt Diana’s wedding and we’ll laugh and it will be great. And then I’ll get super serious and scary and warn them about the dangerous evils that are abdomen-compressing spanx. Because although passing out at my best friends wedding was probably more a mixture of uncomfortableness, dehydrations and glimpsing my own inevitable partnered end, I will always blame the Spanx.
And yet….there is an event coming up and I want to wear this skin tight blue velvet dress…will I spanx or not? I feel like this shall be the (rather silly yet poignant) debate of my 20’s.
Read more about my thoughts on spanxing it at the RedEye.
I felt silly, shallow and super un-feminist after my little venture into Spanx. But we all negotiate our way through the continuing development of feminism. We all still have to live in a world that idealizes 24-inch waists; even if we understand that beauty standards aren’t realistic, sometimes we want to take a break from fighting the patriarchy even if it hurts our internal organs. It is silly and shallow, but we are real people who want to fit into the roles society makes for us at the same time we fight to deconstruct those roles.