Six-Pack Fakery

A new men's "compression undergarment" that some are calling the "Spanx for men" is supposed to give the illusion that you've got a six-pack. From a product review in the Times UK:

Every so often, something totally “lady” from the world of women’s fashion and beauty gets repackaged, dyed navy and sold to men. In this instance, it’s the turn of the girdle. I’m reminded of previous cases, such as Superdrug’s bizarre make-up range for men, or Marc Jacobs careening around in heels, explaining it’s not just women who suffer for fashion. Attempts not famed for their success.

When I first pull out what is swiftly becoming touted as “Spanx for men” — Equmen’s core precision undershirt, a long-sleeved T-shirt, in mid-grey, which comes in a medical-looking box — I’m underwhelmed. Somehow, I’m expecting more, something manly in knitted whalebone, perhaps; some sort of mechanical truss, or navy duct tape. For a T-shirt that promises to “visibly streamline” my body, this just looks like it needs a good iron.

I manage to plunge myself into its flapping mouth. Several moments of flailing, grunting and yelping, and I’m in. Actually, no, not quite. Wrinkles of fabric are twisting up my arms, there are air pockets of fabric below my armpits and I’m trying not to fart. Which isn’t surprising, for where’s my stomach meant to go? My breathing is rapid and short, like a hunted creature’s. I’ve pulled on a size large, but according to the Equmen fitting table, I could equally have gone for a medium, my actual size, to “maximise results”. What, total asphyxiation?

This reminds me of the time I tried on a rubber tank top at Mister S in San Francisco. Within seconds I was having a claustrophobic panic attack and as I desperately tried to wriggle out of it, the thing rolled up, ripping out my chest hair. The clerk said, "Because careful! If you tear it, you've bought it." I said, "I don't care if you have to CUT the thing off of me, get me OUT of this!"