Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Beware of The Body Changer

I’m a writer and being a writer is all about re-writing—first draft, second draft, re-configurating the time-line, throwing pieces of text out, re-placing, out of thin air, I might add, with something else, re-constructing and re- fitting the pieces; inserting, perfectly, each piece of the puzzle, in other words, revision-hell…editing, re-styling the format, doing leg-work and spending time on researching background material…

That same dread, doubt, frustration, vexation, wishing to be some place else experience, occurred during my fittings and re-fittings for a gown I purchased.

Never, never order a knit sheath gown if you are over 22 years of age, even if you have the top expert seamstress/alteration professional at downtown Neiman Marcus at your disposal. Attention: An unlined knit, full length, long St John’s gown has no place to go except to follow the lines of the body it falls over!

Gosh it looked so beautiful in the picture, jeweled neckline, long narrow sleeves, tight at the wrist, covering the models hand just to the top of the fingers; I love that sleeve look—Snow White and all the mythical princes wear that sleeve; waistline defined, cut low in the back, the gown falling to the floor, allowing a smooth flow and movement as one walks, created for a model’s figure. I wanted that look again; my models’ look one more time…

But alas, I had forgotten about the dreaded ‘Body Changer’ – the monster that stalks women of a certain age, moving our body parts around at will…sideways, back and forth, and up and down at the same time as in raising my upper hip line into my waist area and re-arranging what once was a smooth lower back into perfectly placed pleats!

My body line is the same, long legs, narrow hips, my bottom is still nice, but now I’m suddenly short waisted, and have a tummy for all to see AND I chose a fitted knit dress. As Johnny Carson said to Hugh Grant when he was caught in a compromising position or he might have asked the Princely Prince the same thing when he chucked his knickers, “What were you thinking???

I look great in my clothes because I understand the concept of balance and design and I am a master at the art of camouflage. 

But there would be no stoles, no wraps, no asymmetrical dropped belts this time, I had nothing, I was on my own, there was nothing else to do except to shift into serious battle mode…

So, into the closet to pull out every spanks in every size that I had ever purchased and never worn; I have small, medium and large in most styles; padded bras, no-pad bras; waist cinches  with bones, with out; high waist  spanks that fit to just below the bra—when did I buy that thing? Keep in mind, the garment cannot flatten my bottom. Do I even have a merry widow, or did I get rid of that beauty? I pulled out all sorts of body suits, with long stays, in small, medium and large, thong styles, but the edge of the bones poke through  the gown in the small and the fit is too loose in the medium and large…back to the lingerie department for more styles, variety of styles, on and on…three fittings later and then the perfect piece from Nordstrom’s. A black satin waist chinch with hidden bones and a separate perfectly fitted bra in a 36 B. By the way, my breasts are still fantastic, I’m just sayin’…

By wearing the chinch, regular sheer panties, and my smooth perfectly fitted bra, I’m thinking: ‘this may work’, and as the dress fell over my body, I settled in, posed, peered in the mirror and the silhouette I wanted appeared; one could see the slight outline of the chinch, which looked like a bustier and therefore, part of the dress, another mythical princess look.

Several times, during the worst of times, I was on the phone with my dear friend from Houston: super chic, ‘Best Dressed Award’ recipient, encouraging me, guiding me, reminding me about my posture and to work my model’s walk.

Where are my patent high heels? My most comfortable shoes with a small platform, open toe and sling heel, in the most amazing eggplant color with black heel?  Got ‘em!

I was back in my fashion model mode.

The time: 2:00 PM. Hair dressers: 3:00 PM.

 My date is coming in from out of town for the event and would be at my house when I returned home at 4:30. My finger nails and toe nails had to be painted; I chose a deep rich red and did the deed at home.

One final check for make-up; oh my gosh, what about ear rings? My accessories are displayed within easy reach in my closet/dressing room, so I opened my earring trays, and quickly chose the black jet drop earrings I purchased years ago after a fashion show at Marshal Fields in Chicago.
1960’s, that makes them vintage, right?

We were ready, my date dazzled in his Armani tux with the most amazing white embossed stripped pattered fabric Italian designer shirt I have ever seen.  

“My gosh, my love, how much did that shirt cost you”? 
“It’s a $600.00 shirt; I got it on sale for half”. Amen.  

We looked spectacular; I had accomplished the look I wanted. The Helen Martin look when I had walked the catwalks those shinning, glimmering years ago. I walked my model’s walk into the black tie dinner event, and felt “new” again. Posture perfect; one has no choice, really, cinched in like that.

Sitting at dinner, I felt so alive and alert, I know my overall visage glowed. All my movements were fluid; rising from my chair, walking over to greet someone at another table…feelings of weightlessness and lightness in my limbs, my happiness knew no bounds.

Could all these positive feelings come about with just the right undergarments, under a sensational dress? YES!

My next step is to join a Zumba group, to dance and jig some inches off my waistline, so next time, I won’t have to be all cinched in and I can have some wine and actually dine at these events.  And if you believe that, then, the check is in the mail…

Beware of the ‘Body Changer’