Caution: Contents Under Pressure

Sabrina made her First Holy Communion yesterday and there was a dress. A beautiful dress. A dress made of material exploiting several small caterpillars. An expensive dress.

Yeah Sabrina's dress was pretty too.

As I mentioned previously my dress was ordered in a slightly smaller size. And it thankfully did fit, but the dress required a bit of "assistance." When I ordered the dress, the photo showed it on a model that probably had less than 2% body fat and was badly in need of a cheeseburger. I on the other hand display no such deprivation. So while I knew it had a deep "V" front, I didn't realize quite how much cleavage would be displayed on someone who currently wears a "D" cup.

This dress required some serious undercover engineering.

My current bra wardrobe consisted of 3 nursing bras of varying sizes, none of which fit properly, and a piece that can only be referred to as a Granny bra. Not to be confused with Granny panties. Of which I own several.

Plunging silk dresses and graying Granny bras go together about as well as pickles and ice cream. Which sometimes DO go together, but that's what got me stuck with the nursing bras in the first place.

I considered going braless, but untethered, the girls sometimes have a life of their own. And I figured it would probably be a bad idea to flash a booby at Father John what with that whole Vow of Celibacy thing going on. Instead, I went in search of a bra that would provide support without quite so many yards of fabric as my current bras posessed. Comfort is generally last on the list when looking for one of these bras.

I found the bra I was looking for and was in search of something to smooth out the landscape as well. I tried on an all-in-one type deal that was both body smoother and bra that promised to eliminate visible panty lines and back bulges. It was true that I had no visible panty lines, and no bulges underneath where a bra would normally create them.

Have you ever seen those people that take long skinny balloons that are about 4 feet long and twist them into poodles or other balloon creatures? Well this garment had the effect of rolling any excess fat up to the top so that it looked like someone had wrapped one of those long balloons under my armpits.

Instead I settled on a corset. An honest to goodness old fashioned, 500 hooks up the front corset. And it looked great! I was smooth and bulgeless!

I had high hopes for the day of the Communion. I strapped myself into my new Lycra gear and slipped the dress on. There was some serious porn star cleavage going on. I used no less than 4 safety pins to pin the dress TO the bra as well as pinning it shut. There wasn't a darn thing I could do about the cleavage but at least I knew nothing was going to come busting out at an inopportune moment.

On the way to Church I had a peculiar sensation in my midriff. It felt like the darn corset was getting TIGHTER. As I stood in the pew I felt a sudden snapping sensation and realized it had flipped upward upon itself. So I was now essentially wearing two corsets.

My liver was located somewhere around my throat. Breathing was purely optional as my lungs were now stuffed into my armpits. I tried to discreetly push it back down. But pushing that amount of Lycra back into place requires the strength of an ox and looks a little bit like wrestling an alligator. Neither of which are seemly while your child receives a Blessed Sacrament.

To add insult to injury, I realized my pantyhose were also falling down.

I survived the day with several trips to the bathroom for adjustments and the resolution that from now on, I will wear pants to all dress-up occasions. I have sworn off pantyhose, high heels, front hook bras and all forms of Lycra foundation garments.

On a positive diet note, I was unable to eat a thing, since my stomach was squashed into the size of a pea and relocated behind my spine.