We've Got A Wardrobe Malfunction Over Here

Sometimes when C and I are watching television at night, we’ll happen to pass over one of those infomercials advertising some kind of ab torture device or a waistband expander.  Often the booming voiceover or B-level host will make a cheap but effective reference to the physical adversary of every viewer: the muffin-top.  This is especially true if the product is being marketed to women (really, have you ever known a guy who bought an Inch-Master?).  I almost always start giggling at this point of the infomercial, because I love the mental image evoked by having your body described as a breakfast pastry.  Contrary to what Mr. Voiceover says though, what I believe my body tends toward is actually the muffin-bottom, and I’ve never seen an infomercial for something to cure that.

When your middle spills over a belt, the problem is probably not actually the size of your belly.  Really, it’s the pants, which is why the Inch-Master is looking like a better and better value.  Or, I suppose you could go out and get a pair of pants that don’t give your hips a rug burn.  I once worked with a girl who really did get a rash because her tourniquet belt continually chafed away at her waist.  Trust me, I know that it hurts to have to go up a pant size – I’ve done it more than once – but is it really worth it to have to back up to a wall in order to bend over and tie your shoe?   And really, where to muffins go when you eat them?  Mine go to my bottom, not my top.  


While the issue north of the equator gets far more attention and celebrity, I think the muffin-bottom is unfairly neglected. Unfortunately (or fortunately), the only references I've found for muffin-bottom have had to do with baked goods or liposuction.  I can’t imagine why marketing firms haven’t started using this concept as the advertising gold it could be, except that when I say that the search revealed only references to pastries and thigh lipo, I'm not kidding.  It seems that this malaise is the resilient ugly step-sister that Cinderella locked in the basement. 

You don't remember this?

You must be thinking of the another Cinderella.  The one I remember was strong and vindictive.

However, this step-sister is not the Drizella I remember.

Apparently there’s no cheap fix for too much southern exposure– you have to have it surgically removed.  So it seems that neither foe is easily conquered.  Ridding yourself of a muffin-top will only succeed if you can also wean yourself off of the need to shrink wrap your lower body, because using your belt as a rubber band will always produce the same result, no matter your size.  

So if you want to wear your pants like a pastry wrapper, be my guest.  But when you're hiding in a corner so that you can safely scratch your ankle, know that the only thing standing between you and freedom of movement is your pride.  

And your pants.

1 comment:

  1. I was once in Wal-mart near the dressing rooms where this one woman was talking to another saying how awesome the pants fit and they were only a size 18! Now I'm all for losing weight and being happy about sizes no matter where you are, but that girl had a muffin top from those pants that no Inch-Master could cure. Sad.


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