The only thing worse than bathing suit shopping is bra shopping.  Bathing suits are worse because you have to be presentable to the masses.  If you lucky you and your guy are the only ones subjected to your bra purchases.

Today I went in search of a bra that would actually fit me.  I took all the normal precautions.  I wore a shirt that was easy to get in and out of.  I made sure I shaved my armpits and wore sweet smelling deodorant.  So that I wouldn’t have to yell my cup size down the dressing room corridor I found a  room close to the door. There was also a chance if the bra was too tight she might have to make a rescue so I wanted her to be close by. I stocked my purse with chocolate, a bottle of water and my emergency Xanax.  I was ready to proceed.

Of course I told the lady what size I thought I wore and she looked at me as if I two heads.  She spun me around and with a few quick measurements decided my size and went to grab some bras.  Being a middle aged woman with a history of breast feeding, the bras with  pencil thin straps with the cute little rhinestones in the middle of the cups was out.  I was going to need more support than they had to offer.  My breasts were no longer the main event but my bra is more for “crowd control”.

She returned and I informed her that I needed a strapless bra and she actually rolled her eyes as if to say “you really want me to wrangle these girls into a bra with no straps for support?”.  But being the professional bra fitter that her name tag proclaimed her to be she headed back out to find a strapless bra for me.

After 15 bras I finally found one that fit correctly.  I don’t know who was happier me or the bra lady.   She exclaimed “This is the one! This is the bra for you!”  We both got a little misty eyed.

I bought every color of that bra they had and left exhausted.  Wiggling out in and out of so many bras was painful but to find the perfect one you have to try on a lot of losers.