I just need a little support…
Can someone please explain to me why it is so difficult to buy a bra?
Maybe I am the problem. I dread bra shopping so much that by the time I go in search of new bras mine are pretty much down to the last bit of elastic. Going from no elastic to anything makes me feel so much better so I think I have finally found “the one”.
Then the twenty something sales clerk comes in to measure to find my correct size. She comes up with some crazy number and cup size.
“That can not possible be the correct size ” I explain to her.
“Well that’s the measurement I came up with. Are you sure that’s not your size? How do you know? she questions.
“Because if my bra size contained two letters of the alphabet my husband would smile much mor often than he does now. Trust me the only double in this equation is that I do in fact have two.”
Deciding that she is most likely still taking pre Algebra and the chance that she is wrong is very high I venture out to the sea of Lycra and lace to find my own perfect bra.
I discount pretty from the requirement because at my age I need the bra for support and not for advertising and sales. I began to browse and notice immediately that all the bras for flat chested skinny girls are on the top of the racks. All the ones with numbers larger than 36 and with letters past A are on the bottom by the floor.
Doesn’t it make more sense for the skinny girls with no bulk blocking their reach to have to shimmy down to the floor and bend to the back of the rack. I am just saying …when and where does the over weight sagging breast middle aged woman ever catch a break?
At the point of exhaustion I think I have finally found “the one”. I couldn’t be more excited and proceed to purchase it in every color and leave with plans to live happily ever after with my new Lycra buddy.
The next day at work I lift my arm to reach something off the top shelf and the stabbing pain in my chest leads me to believe I am having a heart attack. After a few moments of prayer and thinking where the hell did I put that emergency aspirin in my purse I realize that the underwire in my bra is stabbing me in the chest.
I almost believe the heart attack scenario would have been easier to deal with. I know realize I am stuck with seven bras that will cause heart attack like symptoms when I lift my arms. As you know bras are one of the largest investments for a woman when it comes to her wardrobe. It wasn’t so hard to take when the bras were recreational but not they are mostly utilitarianthe money seems so much harder to let go of.
So I did the only thing I could do. I grabbed my sons Swiss army knife and did surgery on the bras. I watch Grey’s Anatomy so I can do minor surgery. I make a small incision and detach the part of the heart attack inducing underwire and close without any complications.
Hopefully this will buy me some time to keep searching for the one. The one bras that lifts, separates, takes ten pounds off my chest and feels like an old friend.
Am I asking for too much? I just want the perfect purse, a bra that fits and some hot black boots at half off. A simple girl with simple needs on the never ending quest.
The perfect bra is like the perfect purse. We never are able to find it but we all keep looking.
