Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Fantastic elastic

Dress slacks should be easier to get into. Really.

When you're stuck on a conference call with your web developer for a really, really long time (who likes to talk when there's nothing going on, nevermind when your on-line shopping cart crashes during an upgrade), and by the time you get off your eyes are practically yellow, and you end up having to sprint for the bathroom (in heels, no less!), it would be a lot better if your pants had an elastic waistband.

I just bought some new pants that are not so convenient when you've really gotta go. They have three buttons. One small one on the inside and two large ones on the outside. Plus the zipper. But they are the greatest pants looks-wise (great fit around the waist, hips and thighs, with a flare leg and a cuff - rock on!), and are comfortable as all get out (when you don't have a full bladder), so I love them.

The only time I had elastic pants other than during childhood (I envy Zoe with all her adorable elastic pants) was during pregnancy. I first thought that pregnancy pants had elastic waistbands to grow with your belly. Not so. Pregnancy pants have elastic waistbands for the sole purpose of making it easier to relieve yourself, because when you are pregnant (especially later when you are pregnant), you find yourself running to the restroom about every 20 to 30 seconds. Plus, hunting around down there for buttons would just be insane, since after a few months you can't see around the big belly anyway.

The other pregnancy myth I would like to dispel, since I'm on a roll, is the true purpose of maternity leave. Everybody thinks it's to bond with the baby, blah blah blah. Nope. Maternity leave exists for women to "recover" in private. And by recover, I mean not from the birth, but from the prep-work for the birth. I know some women are into the Brazilian thing, but not me, and so getting back to where I started was really quite unpleasant and not something that should be done in public. It's the female equivalent of a guy who always "adjusts" himself. Yeah, it's gotta be done, but no one else needs to see it.

And since we're on that topic (I'm feeling rather bold today, obviously), we recently received a catalog here at the spa that offers a product to dye "the hair down there." Their words, not mine. It's called Fun Betty, and yes, they have different colors. Brown Betty, Black Betty (queue the song), even Auburn Betty. And if you're not doing it so the curtains match the carpet, they have the original Fun Betty, which is hot pink.

This absolutely amazes me. Before I started working at a spa, I never knew there was a whole industry devoted to the pampering of private parts. (I know some of you already know all this stuff, and I'm reasonably sure that some of you are just learning about it, from me. I'm so pleased to be your guide on this trip. At this point, my husband is dying from sheer embarassment and mortification.)

Maybe it's because I'm settled down and married with a child. Maybe it's because I'm busy with working full time and parenting and such, but really, I don't need/want/have time for things that will improve the view inside my underwear. All I would like is some nice dress slacks with an elastic waist.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Amy G said...

The funniest thing I have read this week: "And if you're not doing it so the curtains match the carpet, they have the original Fun Betty, which is hot pink."

WHAT A RIOT. I was not aware of this product and I feel so enlightened. Imagine the surprised look at my next ob/gyn appointment, should I choose to dye myself pink. !!

11:09 AM  

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