Coffee time with the ladies is always interesting, and we learn some new little tidbit every week. We don’t gossip, and we don’t make anything up just to entertain the group. We don’t need to.
Often, we talk about diets, and how we have several sizes of clothes in the closet. It’s an ongoing battle, even if we really aren’t battling very hard! For some reason, we got on the subject of how to control our “muffin” tops around our middle. Skinny, petite, Prudence wanted to know how to control her little layer of fat around her ribs. What?
We recommended the Spanx look. And that got us going.
Prudence asked if we remembered the girdles we used to wear. How could we ever forget!
In her junior year, back in “the day”, Prudence went to the prom with a friend, George. He borrowed his mother’s convertible and off they went in high style. She wore a strapless gown, and underneath she wore a full girdle with stays. Stays are little boning-type supports in the girdle to provide a solid foundation. During the dance, Prudence couldn’t take the squeezing any longer. Besides that, the contrivance was not necessary to sustain the dress. She felt comfortable telling George about the misery she was experiencing. George told her to go take the thing off, and put it in his mother’s car. She did. She threw the girdle in the back seat, then went back into the dance.
You know where this is going, don’t you?
The next day there was a knock at Prudence’s door. Lo and behold, there stood the mother, Joanne, holding the girdle up high between her thumb and index finger so Prudence could see it. “Prudence, dear, is this yours?” she asked. Prudence remembers that she turned beet red. A lot of explaining ensued.
Freda shared her “girdle” story from when she worked at a local women’s store back in the late 50’s. As a young teen, Freda worked noon hours in the summer. One noon hour, an extremely buxom lady came in to buy a girdle. She wanted to try it on, so Freda led her back to a little dressing cubby with a curtain over the opening for a door. Scarcely enough room for such a big event, the room held a chair and was a storage for other merchandise.
The lady undressed and began her struggle in the very tight space. Soon, Freda heard, “Help, Help me” coming from the “closet”. The lady was very distraught. The girdle was wound half-way up her heavy legs, and it would go no further, neither up nor down.
The frustrated lady was close to tears by this time. The girdle was wedged tightly around her thighs. Freda tried to not look at the undressed lady as she pulled and tugged the fabric, while listening to her groans and frustration.
It was very hot in the store. No air conditioning in those days. The lady was perspiring profusely, and nothing was sliding down or up.
The lunch-bunch staff eventually returned. They sprinkled talcum powder and that did the trick. By now, everyone was laughing. The girdle of course, didn’t fit, but it was now used, and the lady bought it.
All I could think was that we sure are glad that fashion doesn’t dictate that we wear such uncomfortable garments! We left with thankfulness that we don’t.
Judi Tabler lives in Pawnee County and is a guest columnist for the Great Bend Tribune. She can be reached at juditabler@gmail.com or juditabler@awomansview.
