The Little White Dress
By Laura Ehlers
****WARNING – this installment of Coast of Illinois contains references to female undergarments, and not in that sexy, Fredericks of Hollywood way, but in more of a clinical, listen to your Mother way.*******
I bought a sweater dress. A white sweater dress. I am not sure why. I would like to think it was an act of optimism and not just a delusional disorder. I was probably high from that new dress smell and I had a handful of ‘rewards’ points and it was near the register…
Anyway…
I should probably give you a tiny bit of info. I am fifty one. I have a BMI somewhere between Salma Hayek and Melissa McCarthy. The dress is sweater knit and white. I spill things.
Last Saturday, I decided to wear the dress. Here is another little bit of info – anything you have on under a white sweater dress shows through the white sweater dress. Even when the dress is lined and you aren’t wearing anything. (But this is not THAT sort of story.)
My plan was to wear the dress with black tights and boots and knowing how clingy sweater knit can be I opted for a staple in all over fifty underwear drawers: the Body Control Garment. This is the slip made of rubber band material and sent to all woman on return of their AARP membership. The dress hugged the slip which hugged me like a serial killer uncle at a family reunion. And the black tights gave the impression of my lower half being stuffed in a trash bag…sort of pre-murder.
Now here is an interesting fact about the Body Control Garment. It is quite serious about controlling the body. It reluctantly allows itself to be pulled up and over your head at which point the shelf bra grabs hold. I am quite sure that as the Lycra tried to suffocate me I heard the slip whisper, ‘if I’m coming off, I’m taking these with me.’ I halfheartedly called for my husband to come remove me but the thought of him seeing me tangled in a beige sausage casing and the resulting photos were much scarier than dying at the hands of an undergarment. I dug deep inside my self esteem and yanked.
The pop as the shelf bra cleared my boobs set off the car alarm.
With modern day undergarments clearly not working I tried the retro route – a vintage silk slip and thigh high nylons. (Don’t even suggest a garter belt here. Again, this is not THAT sort of story and Hanes makes perfectly respectable thigh high stockings which are sold at Target. They are ten times more comfortable than panty hose. And the elastic bands leave an awesome imprint, perfect for startling unsuspecting medical personal who may be called upon to remove your Body Control Garment.) The stockings worked but even though I love my vintage slip, once under the clinging dress, the delicate silk embroidery became weird three dimensional flower tattoos on my chest.
In the end, because I was exhausted and my husband was now in the car checking the availability of his Alternates List (on which Salma Hayek is in the top five). I opted for the Girl Scout issue tan bra and gigantic underpants that stop just above the belly button. No slip. Black stockings.
Here is one more little bit of info: while the black stockings did not show through the dress lining nothing hides the two hand prints on my ass from the makeup still on my fingers when I readjusted the gigantic underpants.
Oh, and when you stand in the hallway trying to simultaneously brush the makeup off your ass and make sure your thigh bulges don’t show above the elastic stockings, DO NOT assume the person you are asking, ”can you see ANYTHING through this stupid dress?” is your husband.
The shriek from our son set off the car alarm, again.
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Laura is a land-locked beach bum who works days as a nurse and shares her land-locked life with her husband who is in law enforcement, which just scratches the surface of their sit-com similarities. They have two children who are recent college grads and a cat who has no interested in bettering himself, unless he can learn how to open his tiny food cans.
You can find her lounging on the Coast of Illinois at htttp://www.coastofillinois.blogspot.com.
HAHAHAH…OMG this is awesome. I so feel you. I felt EVERY. WORD.
It was painful, to expose myself this way but I am so happy I am not alone! ;) Maybe we should start a spandex-free support group!
Oh. My.
Exactly!
This is so hilarious! I can picture it in my mind so easily!
Would it be soooo difficult for someone – anyone – to introduce a line of ‘retro’ undergarments? Just a nice school uniform grade slip. That’s all I ask.
Laughed my 66 year old ass off
Yet even laughing my ass off won’t make those spandex clothes fit better. ;)
Absolutely hilarious!!!!
Thanks you Julie D.!
This is the funniest thing I’ve ever read. I love the car alarm motif. Also the AARP joke. And the sneaky way you led up to the handprints.
Thank you Ruth! I think my son is still traumatized.
Laughed out loud, for real.
I have a blue Merino wool sweater, very soft, which looks perfectly respectable but one of the first times I wore it was to a family gathering. People were taking flash photos. I was wearing a white bra and you can sort of see the outline in every picture of me. AAAAAGH!
Yikes! Nothing says family gathering like a secretly see thru photo-op!!