Daily Mail journalists select and curate the products that feature on our site. If you make a purchase via links on this page we will earn commission - learn moreThe rot set in during lockdown. During those confined, halcyon, WFH, home-baked sourdough and wild-garlic pesto days, when the full-length mirror became a lot less important than the next episode of Tiger King on the widescreen telly and a 5pm bottle of service-station rosé seemed entirely reasonable (even on a Tuesday in April), a sofa-seeking man like me found himself getting a bit… lardy. My uncrunched tummy grew flabby and I developed the beginnings of the dreaded back fat. I was testing positive as a slob and it didn’t matter because, with nowhere to go, no one was watching.When the restrictions lifted, I wanted to get fit again – but how to quickly rectify this middle-aged malady? I tried running, I dabbled with a protein-centric diet, even bouts of intense cardio at the gym, all with moderate success, but nothing that caused friends to deploy that desired and strangely delightful, cod-concerned compliment: ‘Oh my god – you are so thin! Are you OK?’Until the weight was shifted, what I needed was a more immediate, compression-engineered, blubber-relocation solution that would reassign what I already had into better, sexier and more flattering locales.In my father’s time, this would have meant – no way of sugarcoating it – a girdle. Wearers of this oddly perverse, often Elastoplast-toned contraption, would come from one of two specific social categories: gaudy showbiz types or painful hernia sufferers. And there was shame associated with both. The Las Vegas legend Liberace wore a girdle. So did my father’s tubby pal Harry who’d blown his abdominal wall trying to lift his labrador into the back of a Land Rover after a game shoot.Me? Being a bit younger and of a more sensitive generation, I was allowed to ‘own’ my fat and encouraged to adopt a positive, shame-free approach. Taking advice, I turned to the famous ‘top control and ultimate crotch comfort’ of the Spanx garment range, back in 2023, the gold standard of compression wear.James Corden wore Spanx, so did Richard Branson. Why not me?In those days everyone was wearing Spanx. Buoyed by sales in the burgeoning man’s sector, the US fashion trade journal WWD reported that the global shapewear market was worth around £4.8 billion. The Spanx brand founder, American Sara Blakely became a billionaire. James Corden wore Spanx, so did Richard Branson and Steve Carrell. Why not me? With social gatherings about to be legitimised, I panic-ordered a Spanx For Men vest and some pants and tore the box open on arrival. (It said, ‘How’s it hanging?’ on the packaging – embarrassing if the neighbours had clocked that.)Yes, the reverse escapology process of shoehorning myself into the white, toddler-sized Spanx T-shirt was clumsy and undignified. And yes, I laughed at the sheer vanity and silliness of the high-cut pants when I looked in the mirror. But the figure-hugging garms were flattering – and kind of airbrushing.No seams or excessive, bulky material to contend with meant my clothes hung nicer on me. With my Spanx tank top targeting my waist, tummy and chest, my deportment improved. I stood prouder and taller. I felt… better.I was also, very definitely, hotter. Not hotter as in more hunky and desirable (that ship has long sailed) I mean actually hotter. After a night out in a suit and a pair of Spanx underpants – more heft, height (they were pulled up to my underboobs) and construction than my usual foundation apparel – my nether areas were warmer than an egg poacher. The devil’s contract with shapewear is that it deploys a sculpted physique crafted by way of some very unnatural fibres – Spanx being a blend of nylon and elastane, ie long-chain polymers known as ‘segmented block copolymers’ and fibres containing a minimum of 85 per cent polyurethane.Reader, this was a problem for me - aside from a small amount of outdoor kit and running items, there are no man-made fabrics in my life. I didn’t enjoy feeling like I was wrapped up in insulation-grade clingfilm, so I decided Spanx were for special occasions only. And guess what? Even the manufacturers themselves seemed to agree with me. Spanx quietly discontinued its men’s shapewear last year and now offers no male garments at all. I consider this apparel cancellation a sexist, flagrantly gender-based bias that disrespects the male form and the rights of chubby men who deserve to have a nice flat tummy just as much as the girls do. But, obviously, the market wasn’t there.If I wanted shape and less bulk, perhaps I would be better off reverting to my late (and very brief) Joey Tribbiani-inspired period of ‘going commando’ in the noughties, where dispensing with underwear completely did away with all unwanted and unsightly material bulges beneath one’s suiting. (Yes, I know. No underwear – boys wandering free around the barracks. Ew.)Then, summer 2026, with me now back to three packs of Uniqlo cotton boxer briefs, enter M&S with its Autograph Body Invisibles range, promising a ‘smooth feel and undetectable look’. Designed to increase a man’s confidence while wearing any outfit, the collection’s key pieces feature heat-bonded (ie not stitched) seams and hems. Lightweight Flexifit fabric adds stretch for freedom of movement. Pants stay up via a stitch-free Infin8 elasticated waistband. Cool Comfort technology wicks away moisture.M&S is boldly describing its Body Invisibles as ‘premium investment pieces’, the investment being, one presumes, in your figure. I was ready to get in shape again.Pants/trunks first. For the best effect I was advised to drop down a size – compression works best when you really have to squeeze into it (Skims founder Kim Kardashian wears the tiniest size available and sometimes wears two at a time!). And that decision worked wonders. Incredibly, with them pulled up to a Simon Cowell height, it seemed as if the Body Invisibles pants had knocked an inch off my waist and my jeans were suddenly a bit looser. Flexifit was actually governing my tummy, slimming down my side-flubber, emasculating my reproductive zone and, best of all, the vest flattened any suggestion of man boob. I felt like Superman (well, Superoldman, maybe).How did Body Invisibles compare to Spanx? The M&S variant is lighter and less of a performance to wear.The material is, obviously, synthetic – 76 per cent polyamide, 24 per cent elastane – but despite the super-close fit, it doesn’t feel at all clammy or unpleasant, with a cooler, less sweaty crotch.Invisibles are a lot cheaper, too. A pair of Spanx For Men Sculpt Cotton Spandex Briefs cost around £56 (you can still get the men’s line via Amazon) while a three-pack of M&S Body Invisibles trunks is just £28.At my age, I found the black pieces a tad severe – the grisly, retired cage fighter on holiday in Magaluf was never the look I was going for – but the smooth white was sporty and did not show under a white or pale-blue shirt. Had I found my new, go-to daily underwear?A single friend issued a warning. Do not opt for shapewear, he said, if you are hoping for the evening to end with an intimate encounter. Remember that bit in the first Bridget Jones movie where Hugh Grant’s caddish Daniel Cleaver finally gets Bridget into bed and discovers her giant knickers? With his compressions on, a man like your reporter may be in grave danger of eliciting a similar response from his new lover. ‘Hello, Mummy!’