Dear Gok Wan. How are you? I am fine. Well, I say fine, but actually I’m far from fine. You see Gok, I’m wearing my magic knickers as recommended by you on How to Look Good Naked (C4 Tuesdays 8pm).
The offending pants (knee to midriff) are so unwieldy that every goosestep I take results in a TWAYYAYYANG… TWAYYAYYANG from my nether regions as my legs ping back together under the pressure of the industrial strength lycra. People are talking, Gok. They’re looking and pointing. They’re saying, “Mason’s walking funny. Has she had work done? Has she had a bit of a tidy up? One of them fancy designer ‘downstairs’ ops everyone’s talking about?”
Gok, these bad boys are so tight that my bum looks like it’s off to a fancy dress party dressed as a bank robber. You have a lot to answer for, sonny Jim, because let’s be honest - it’s not “all about the confidence” is it? I think we both know that that’s a lie, don’t we? What it IS actually about is the pert ski slope bosoms, flat stomach and buttocks like two wee apples in a hankie.
What prompted that little outburst, you may ask? Well, Gok, I’ve had my eye on you for a while. Or more specifically I’ve had my eye on How To Look Good Naked for a while. I’ve watched you honk a few hooters and bully a few bangers.
Now Gok, I’m no Angelina “Here’s my lips, my bum will be along shortly” Jolie. Some might argue I’m more Anne Widdecombe than Anne Hathaway. So I flirted with the notion of magic underwear and finally plucked up the courage to send away for some. Perish the thought that I would buy them in an actual shop. That way lies disaster. As sure as a cat’s a hairy beast, I’d skulk to the till with magic knickers in hand only to bump into everyone in the world I fancy, damn it.
So the fateful day arrived and with it came the discreetly packaged garment. I shoved, wheezed and squeezed my way in to them. It was all I could do not to yelp when I caught sight of my reflection. Let’s face facts. Nothing, but nothing can defy the laws of physics.
That extra flesh has to take up residence somewhere and in my case it takes up residence at the outer reaches of the pant in the form of what can only be described as a ‘bumphle’. I’ve tried tucking it into my bra but frankly, there’s no room at the inn there either. Fortunately batwing jumpers are back on trend. Yay for the voluminous jumper.
So, Gok, come here ‘til I tweak that wooden toothy thing that’s poked through your earlobe. Until they discover a new law of physics that displaces the bumphle, I’m resorting to normal pants. Because let’s face it pal, it’s all about the confidence. How’d you like them apples?
PS – See that thoughtfully provided discreet opening in your magic knickers? Unless I’m anatomically incorrect, Gok, there’s nowt discreet about it. I won’t go into details.
Lindsey Mason is a finalist in stv.tv's Write Factor competition. The views expressed are not necessarily those of STV plc. If you would like to read more from this writer, use our comment system below.
