Husbandio bought (i.e. I bought) his first pair of skinny jeans this week. It’s pretty cute.
Technically, they are not at all skinny jeans; they are “straight leg,” but because they are two sizes smaller than his previous jeans, Husbandio refers to them as his skinny jeans. I can tell he likes them because he’s doing that male supermodel walk up and down the hallway between our bedroom and bathroom. Makes me glad I married him, all supermodel-walky like that, all 34-inch waisted and skinny-straightlegged like a tall drink of middle-aged husband-dad water.
And let’s not forget his new shirt, bought in concert with the jeans, from Banana Republic (which was having a 40% off of everything sale). Cool shirt + skinny jeans = a get up that can only be described as middle-age metro-hottie.
A bit of background: at 6’4″, Husbandio is a full foot taller than I. And, subsequently, a few pounds heavier. But after attending Coach Kitty’s kick-arse class at our gym, AND after frequent international work trips where he makes Bad Choices like dining on a tuna fish sandwich at the Tel Aviv airport or brushing his teeth with the Mexican tap water, he’s dropped a few pounds and a few sizes around the waist. These days (thank you, Coach Kitty) he likes me to feel his biceps. Which I do. Right after I make him feel mine.
Now. Allow me to digress for a moment and explain that this is the time of year when I like to eat my fabulous neighbor’s (thank you Sarah K.) homemade Almond Roca for breakfast. Thus, I am equally grateful to another Sara. Sara Blakley, inventor of Spanx. Now if you haven’t embraced (and been embraced by) Spanx, check them out. No matter how thin and toned and Coach Kitty-ed a gal is, I have realized that there comes a time when she can benefit from Spanx. I’m not sure if it has to do with skin elasticity or the relentlessness of gravity or maybe how sheer and slinky women’s dresses are these days, but I need me a little Spanx to smooth out the hip ripples. The hipples.
When I was a kid, however, I would marvel at the torture device that was The Girdle. Frankly, they scared me a little.
Sure she may appear so much happier when her various parts are pressed and raised, but I knew, even as a girl, that the girdle was just another form of female torture, not unlike foot binding, the technique where women attempted to transform their feet into THREE-INCH “golden lotuses” in order to land themselves husbands. Not unlike whalebone corsets which gave women 17-inch waists . . . the tinier the waists, the higher a woman’s social status. Sigh.
So as Husbandio is prancing around our bedroom in his skinny jeans, and I’m wishing the Spanx went just a little higher on my torso, I asked him. “Hey. Do men ever wish they could wear Spanx?”
Husbandio looked at me. “I don’t even know what that means. And even if I did know what that meant, I feel like the answer to that question would incriminate me. Or become a blog entry.”
“No, look,” I said, typing spanx.com onto my laptop. “Do men ever wish they could wear stuff like this, but for men? To make you feel smoother? Are women the only ones who try to tighten themselves into corsets and girdles and three-inch shoes, or do men sometimes–”
And then I stopped. Because lo and behold, what to my wondering eyes did appear! There ARE Spanx for men, to lift up THEIR rears!
“Yikes,” I said. “Check it. If Rhett lived in 2010, he could have been as smooth and tiny-waisted as Miss Scarlett.” I clicked another link. “Oooo. Rhett could have also been . . . enhanced.”
So yes, it turns out that Spanx makes a men’s line too. Indeed (as the web page announces) GAME ON!
I will spare you the imagery of the Cotton Comfort Brief ($38.) which claims to add “dimension and depth for an enhanced profile.” But I did show Husbandio.
“Hm. Like a codpiece,” Husbandio noted. “Or male ballet dancers. Those guys have a lot of dimension and depth going on.”
I nodded. “And look at these undershirts. Not that you, Mr. Skinny-jeans, need this, but the undershirt could provide you with ‘zoned compression [that] targets abs and torso.’ Just don this $78. undershirt–it ‘eliminates bulk under clothes.’” I looked at Husbandio. “Do men really worry about feeling bulky under clothes?”
Husbandio shrugged. “Maybe once or twice. But that was before skinny jeans.” And then he resumed his male supermodel prance.
So there you have it, people. Men may, at times, yearn to be smoothed and “enhanced” (and will pay large amounts of money to be encased in stretchy fabrics) just as women do.
That makes me feel a bit better, less like I am willingly purchasing torture devices that bind my various body parts in dangerously, bone-breakingly, organ-smashingly tight spaces, just to land a husband.
More like I just want to smooth out the hipples.
As long as men are willing to go to similar lengths to look like middle-aged hotties, I say, bring on the Spanx! As long as all’s fair in love and girdles, game on, I say.