The Fabric of Our Lives?

I've always had issues with my figure. What girl doesn't?? I know I'm fortunate in that I'm fairly tall (5'9") and fairly thin (currently 136), so I try not to complain too much. But my long and lanky figure is also problematic. My inseam is 34 inches so finding pants long enough is a hassle. I'm also very short-waisted so finding shirts short enough is a hassle. My high waist is also very thick and if it weren't for my moderate saddle-bags I wouldn't have any illusion of a waistline at all. I am also lacking in the hips and ass area. And alas, my shoulders, double chin and big ears are also a problem - which basically makes me one big hot mess.

The other day I ran out of my usual underwear. I typically wear Fruit of the Loom cotton bikini undies. Not glamorous but very practical and they do the trick. The trick being to cover my ass and allow me not to feel naked in my clothes - which seems like an oxymoron - but since I said it, it's just MORON.

Anyway, I ran out of my FOTL bikinis because I was lazy and didn't get to the laundry and all I had left were a couple pairs of these lacy satiny jobbers. (Not much occasion for those lately unfortunately. Although...maybe if I WORE them more often, I'd have OCCASION for them more often - IF you know what I mean.) So, I put on a lacy pair, got dressed and then got on with my day. About halfway through that day though I noticed that I kept having to hike up my pants. Step, step, step, tug...step, step, step, tug....and on like that ALL DAY. It was driving me crazy. But then it occurred to me, Hey! Maybe I've lost weight! That MUST be it! That's why these old-jeans-that-used-to-fit-just-right keep falling down! That thought made me happy so I gladly tugged away the rest of the day and was even a little puffed up about the weight I'd lost without even trying. Wasn't I so amazing?! I can lose weight just by merely EXISTING!

The next day, I was down to that last pair of satiny undies (I still hadn't done any laundry) so I put on those bad boys and then put on a pair of black yoga pants over them. (No, I don't do yoga. I just like the pants.) Now, in case you didn't know, yoga pants are made of a stretchy jersey type of fabric that tends to cling to your skin snugly. I was sure that this would solve the I've-lost-so-much-weight-that-I-have-to-tug-up-my-pants-all-day problem. But it wasn't to be. An hour later I noticed that I was still tugging them up every few steps. Step, step, step, tug...

That's when it hit me.

I haven't lost weight. IT'S THE SATIN UNDIES. All of these years, little did I know, that it was my practical cotton undies that had been keeping my pants up. My assless, hipless, waistless figure gave nothing for the pants to hang onto. The friction from the cotton-on-cotton held my pants in place whereas the slippery satin ones just let them slide on down all willy-nilly like.

I was so disappointed. Disillusioned. Distraught.

I had not lost weight. And even worse, I was not cut out for the sexy satin undies. I was doomed to be a cotton undies gal forever and there was nothing I could do about it.

Or so I thought.

When I told my tale to Emma and lamented my boring underwear destiny, she sighed heavily, closed her eyes as if to find her patience somewhere deep inside of her soul, took a deep breath and said, "Why don't you just wear a belt, Mom?"