To me, ShaToBu kinda sounds like a sushi joint appetizer. You know, something noodle-y and saucy that would hang ungracefully out of your mouth no matter how many combo slurp and tongue lap moves you do to shovel it into your trap. Welp, it’s… not that. In fact, you might say it’s the exact opposite of that.

ShaToBu is a strain of shapewear that claims to help you burn more calories during everyday activities through special muscle toning resistance bands. Yup. We found it in our office and thought it would be a fun little experiment. I only had a weekend to test run this baby, so I can’t speak to any long-term whittling effects. Luckily, though, ShaToBu is an experience that reaches outside the realm of just the “after” photo.

I am not the most observant person, especially when it comes to agreeing to try new things. Most of the time, I’ll look at you and say “Yeah, sure, that sounds cool” without really inspecting what the heck I’m getting myself into. This might seem like a detrimental attribute, and sometimes it is. Most of the time, though, it affords me an experience I probably wouldn’t partake in if I actually thought about it. The point I’m trying to make here is… I didn’t really look at the box. I mean, I looked. I saw  ”GET FIT” on it, promptly drew my own misguided conclusion, and stuffed them into my work bag. 

Cut to a week later.

What I hadn’t notice about the box was the sketch of a woman modelling the tights in question. And I guess you could say the entire concept of “shapewear” hadn’t entirely sunk in, either. So when I held the tights up at about shoulder height and they still hung down to my toes, my response was “… oh… no.” My usual weight loss outlook is this: I will run, I will do 200 sit-ups, I will do mountain climbers until the cows come home (no I won’t, but in this situation, maybe), I will sweat until I leave butt prints behind, but I refuse to wear a weird, elastic, corset-esque apparatus. It’s basically modern-day equivalent of Chinese foot-binding.

Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but the idea is just… no shapewear up in here. Not. Up. In here. But for you guys, I sucked in my pride and weird standards, and braced myself for a bumpy ride.


Let’s just say that actually getting your body into these things is a workout in and of itself. I had to turn my fan on full blast and blow it directly on me as I journeyed through unflattering contortions and made weird, guttural noises that you probably only hear in a maternity ward.  After a huge yank and a little “GET OVER MY TUSH” dance (you know the one I’m talking about), they were on. And disconcertingly close to my breasts. I probably could’ve made it into a creepy strapless jumpsuit if I wanted to. I didn’t want to.

For someone opposed to the idea of shapewear, I didn’t hate it. It wasn’t too confining, and it held all your bits in where maybe they would’ve ran a tad rogue. What I didn’t like were the resistance bands that encircle the leg — it’s an odd, distracting feeling to have normal stocking action all the way until mid thigh, where you have these thick, rubber-band-y strips suddenly clutching you for dear life. I guess I could get used to it, if I was forced to. The thing that seriously subtracts points for me, though, is the placement of these bands. They sit right at or below my usual skirt line, so that it’s obvious that my tights go from semi-sheer to a  “look at me I want smaller thighs” band. Awkward. And I’m not trying to join the convent and lower the seams of my skirts. I’m 22 and I’d like to pull off as much thigh as I can, while I can, thank you.

I guess my verdict is that while these tights aren’t awful, I probably wouldn’t wear them. Mostly because I would need to factor an extra 20 minutes into my morning routine for application. And also because they’re almost $40. Yikes.

In my opinion, you’d be better off just taking a walk.

Would you Lovelies wear a ShaToBu on a regular basis?