The ultimate fashion faux pas is calling
Spandex is really nobody’s friend. Even if they’re at the gym,
working out and weigh 90 pounds soaking wet, because those working
out next to them in between Twinkies (much like myself) will want
to kill them.
The ultimate fashion faux pas is calling
Spandex is really nobody’s friend. Even if they’re at the gym, working out and weigh 90 pounds soaking wet, because those working out next to them in between Twinkies (much like myself) will want to kill them.
There is no redeeming value to Spandex, even though it contains cool things like polyurethane and polyethylene glycol. It tells the world all your little…and big… secrets that no one really wants to made aware of.
Spandex lies to you and tells you that it’s sucking everything in, but you really look like a tragic Goodyear tire accident.
It is evil, I tell you. It can make you saunter, strut and even swagger with its dangerous ability to bestow an abundance of confidence never felt before, while wearing any other article of clothing. It whispers in your ear while you’re out with The Girls on Saturday night after a long week of work and kids.
It tells you things you want to hear. “You’re hot! Look at you; 40 years old. It’s true, 40 is Fabulous! Those couldn’t be perkier if they were made of granite. That’s right, they’re all looking at you. Keep dancing, Hot Stuff.” It makes you believe it’s your friend.
I think there should be a pact that all girlfriends make to one another over margaritas at Chevy’s. We make many of those, the more margaritas are consumed. You know, things like:
“Lisa, If I see you contemplating blue eye shadow at the make-up counter, I will gently steer you away from 1974.”
So touched would she be by your concern for her public appearance and over-all well-being that in turn she would vow:
“Kelly, if I ever see you with a fanny pack; yes, even at Disneyland, I will point and laugh at you until you run away crying.”
But it’s one thing all women do seem to agree on when asked. Spandex cannot be trusted, and yet we see so many of our comrades running around in public, donning various colors of that deceptive material from anything from skirts and horror of horrors, the ever-popular discotheque favorite, the Tube Top. With or without sequins.
The trouble with either of those garments on the wrong body type, (not that there is a right one, wearing that combo) is that those items could become, while worn, unintentionally interchangeable and at a probably very public and very bad time.
At any given time in the ’90s, we could have had Spandex interventions. And I am beginning to see it’s making a comeback. It actually never left since it’s not biodegradable, but I am seeing it again and frankly, it’s scaring me.
Summer is coming and I know that Spandex will make its appearance at Bachelorette parties, home gyms, public gyms, and Girl’s Nights Out across the county.
It’s up to us, ladies. Now, is the time to take a stand. This year, let’s make this the summer of The Bumper Sticker: “Friends Don’t Let Friends Wear Spandex.”
Kelly Sinon can be reached at
th*******@ya***.com
. She lives in Gilroy with her family.
