True Story

So, the other day I was in the dressing room at Dillard's when I overheard this:

Grunt . . . groan . . . heavy breathing . . . ooh.

Gosh, I wondered, what the heck is going on over there?

And then, in a heavy southern accent:

"Oh, hon, maybe you need another size."

Did I mention that this was the dressing room in the lingerie department?

Loud exhale.

"Is it supposed to do that?"

"Darlin, I don't think so."

"It's just pushing my fat right up over the top."

"Well, I've never tried on Spanx before, so I'm just not sure."

Oh, Spanx! I was beginning to get the picture, an image I haven't been able to forget.

Now, I have a few dents in the old fender due to the extra junk in the trunk, but I have yet to try any body-shaping undergarments. I've just been letting my jeans do all the work. Is it really that difficult? Because now I'm afraid. Someday I might want to upgrade from this mommy uniform and I might need the help of a smoothing mid-thigh shaper under my clothes. Do I need to bring a helper in the dressing room?  I'm just not sure I have any friends who would do that for me. I've got some super girlfriends, but wow, wouldn't that be asking a lot?

Someone please advise.