Nice of them to provide the pump; you’d hate to inflate those by mouth after you'd worn them around for a month or so.. You may wonder about how the “Magic” exercises makes sense in the context of the super-rational Space-Age, but it only proves Arthur C. Clarke’s point: any technology sufficiently advanced will be indistinguishable from magic.

Look at her! She’s so fat!

 
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After ten minutes applying magic to her torso – a part of the body usually understood as the part not covered by the Trim-Jeans – she cools her heels while the ingenious jeans grind away at her flesh, drawing fat from the legs through the pores and converting them to an odorless, colorless gas.

That is all there is to it.
 

Amazing! Her bosom is fuller and higher, her hair richer and thicker, and her intestines have puckered together to form the pleasing “hourglass” shape the gentlemen demand. But more important, she has lost inches from every body party in just one brief session. The secret? Measuring yourself with the damn thing on, then measuring yourself after it’s removed.