“In my heart, I am supposed to be blonde. I wear fake lashes. I own roughly 47 different shades of lipstick, so clearly, I care about the way I look. But here’s the thing. Nobody is going to stand up at the front of the church at your funeral and talk about your looks.”
‘I get my hair colored. My natural hair color is mousy brown, I think. I can’t be fully certain. I haven’t seen it since I was 15 or so. But it’s dark. I do know that much.’
‘Hi, how are you?’ ‘Any weird fetishes?’ ‘Have all your teeth?’ Dating in your 40s is dumb. Widowhood is dumb. Spanx? Yeah, no. But I don’t want to be alone forever, so it’s a necessary evil.’
“When I was in my 20’s, dating was easy. I threw on something cute in a size 3 and went to parties. Sometimes I went to the wrong house, but you’d be surprised how nice people are when you show up with a 6-pack. Well, it’s not that easy anymore.”
‘Why the hell would you take a photo of me at that angle?,’ I said after I saw this photo in my husband’s phone. I became so self-conscious.’
“I once had a girl tell me that my dress would look better if I had some Spanx on – I had a cesarean 3 three months prior to that. I loved the way I looked in that dress.”
‘I was 18 when I had my first child. Now, I’m Mother of the Bride. I am not wearing shapewear. My love for eating and my disdain for Spandex imprisonment rail against it.’
“I’m only 44, so I don’t want some flowy, champagne-colored gown with a bespangled bodice. I’m at least 20 years away from that outfit. Of course, va-va-voom is out. It’s my daughter’s day and I’m not much of a bombshell anyhow. I want to look nice, but not come-hither.”
‘It’s the size of my thigh. I’m out of breath. I’ve ripped it!’ Mom’s HYSTERICAL attempt trying on too-tiny SPANX
“Oh that’s not funny. That’s freaking stuck. Oh my gosh, WHY WOULD I DO THIS?”
