Pantyhose, I have theorized, were an invention by a man to torture women. I would say the same of SPANX, but we all know those were the brain child of Sara Blakely and that thousands of women “swear by their SPANX”. Yet what is the first thing we do when we get home? We rip off every layer of clothing, an audible ‘aaahhh’ emits from our mouths the moment our bra is unhooked and then the task at hand: peel off that Lycra/nylon bondage that’s been holding in, up, apart, various body parts. What the hell? It’s hard as shit just to get into a pair of those damn things! She knew that when she designed them, that’s why there’s a pee hole in the crotch so you don’t have to pull them up and down all night. I’m sure there are women who say, “screw it, it took me 5 hours to get these on, they aren’t coming off until I HAVE to shower again!” There are everything from tucking in the tummy and controlling the butt to propping up the boobs to covering the toes. Any woman will tell you, the array of ’unmentionables’ that we have to select from makes shopping for them an expedition. There is no running in to grab a pair, it’s a labor of dread and in this world, there is no faking it. All of your fat and glory is in black and white in the sizing, because there is no getting away with cramming into a smaller size in the world of nylon/Lycra undergarments. After we have spent half a day shopping for these torture devices, we wear them all day or night sweating our proverbial balls off, then work enough calories off to not need them in the process of trying to take them off. Once they are off, we have every intention to care for them as the label reads: Hand wash only. We even bought that special soap. I, along with almost everyone I know, have a pile of hose, lycra and that teddy you wore once in the corner of the closet that the cat finds quite comfortable.