You've got an upcoming event. You can't wait to get back in your rubber gear after a hiatus.
You give it a quick try on. You've been a bit lapse with the gym/keen with your eating. After a bit of adjustment, it all seems to work out ok. Snugger than before, true, but it's rubber after all.
You think to yourself how great you're going to look in your favourite gear. Your return to the scene will be triumphant.
The night of the party arrives. You lube up. Put your rubber shorts on. Great. Time for the top. It takes a little while longer. Needs more lube. That's the issue – it's lube that's at fault. You wriggle and twist and shift and shimmy. And it's on. You're good. You pull on your hoodie and you're out the door.
You walk to the venue. The evening is warm. Sweat runs down your body. It feels nice. Even more sweat flows. You shrug.
When you arrive at the party you have to adjust. Ease your rubber top back down over your sweat drenched bod. And it stays down - for all of a minute. You adjust some more whilst stood by the bar. The venue is hot and humid. You're sodden.
You strike up a conversation. All the while you smile and nod as sweat runs down your face. You've not heard a word they've said as you fret over the creeping dread of your midriff.
The rubber is no longer edging up your body. It's pinging up like an elastic band. It can no longer gain hold over your very sweaty, 'slightly' bigger hips. Your favourite rubber tee has become an unflattering rubber crop top. It was not the look you'd planned.