Products

Spanx

By Jesse Kornbluth
Published: Oct 28, 2009
Category: Clothing

So there I was, out for a night on the town with my wife. While I cherish her sharp wit, powerful brain and mammoth heart, may I also say that she is something of a babe. And so it is not exactly surprising that, at a certain point in the evening, I stopped with the literary quips, cultural references and deep thoughts and — like your basic American mouth-breathing male — put my hand on her ass.

It did not stay there long.

This was not because my wife is a great lady and great ladies abhor public displays of affection.

It was because of something she was wearing.

And it was wicked powerful. You know how you can bounce a quarter off a bed made by a Marine? Multiply that by ten. I swear, my hand bounced off her rump like a Superball. Had it not been attached firmly to my wrist, it would have sailed over tall buildings and landed in the river.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Spanx."

For the uninitiated — that is, for any men reading this — Spanx are must-have undergarments. Think panty hose with the legs cut off. And a top that doesn’t roll. Spanx take a woman’s lumps and bumps, and, very simply, eliminate them. Sure, the effect is of sausage fighting against its casing. And, yeah, you have to do some kind of crazy dance to get them on, but every woman I know says it’s worth the trouble — Spanx not only eliminate Visible Panty Lines, they turn the derriere into a compact, rock-hard mass of alabaster smoothness.

(Tip from my wife: If all you want is smoothness, buy Spanx one size bigger than the chart suggests. If, however, you’ve been hitting the ice cream night after night, follow directions.)

Spanx are the brainchild of Sara Blakely. She is blonde and Southern and, now, in her mid 30s. After college — she was a Tri Delt at Florida State — she flunked the law boards twice. Her early career was spotty: She was a chipmunk at Disney World, she sold fax machines door-to-door in St. Petersburg, Florida. Then she caught fire, becoming national sales manager of an office-equipment company and doing stand-up comedy at night.

"One night I was going to be on stage," she recalls, "but I couldn’t figure out what to wear under my white pants that wouldn’t show lines. So I cut the feet out of my panty hose. That’s when I had my epiphany.”

Blakely worked up a prototype of Spanx and pitched Neiman Marcus. The good news: Neiman wanted enough Spanx for seven stores. The bad news: The manufacturer wanted $50,000 up front to make them. Blakely borrowed the money from her grandparents. Three months later, she paid them back.

Blakely is no slouch when it comes to marketing. Think of a woman with a national media platform and weight issues, and send her some Spanx. Did you think of Oprah? Blakely did. Oprah sent a film crew to Atlanta to document the Spanx phenomenon. Blakely, who was then the entire staff of Spanx, quickly found a woman — her favorite clerk at Mail Boxes — who was willing to pretend to be her assistant. Soon Oprah annointed Spanx "product of the year."

Spanx have been around for five years now. In another to Oprah, there have been celebrity endorsements from Gwyneth and Sarah Jessica and Gwen Stefani. Among the rank-and-file, every woman I know seems to wear them. Needless to say, Ms. Blakely is a millionaire several times over.

In my book, a good thing is anything that makes a woman happy. So I’m here to endorse Spanx and do my small bit to get them to every woman in America. As for those affectionate pats on the ass, I fear they’re over. I console myself with the knowledge that I will never be asked to pay for liposuction.