If you have breasts of any significance you know that a woman's relationship with her bra collection is a special one. One bra style cannot serve every need. Much like a cherished group of friends, they have different personalities and strengths. You might have the "good girl", the "beautiful one", the "slutty one", the "exercise buddy" and the "BFF". And everybody should have at least one "sassy black one". Diversity, y'all! It's a beautiful thang!
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| "We're gonna need a bigger bra..." |
They are all important but there is always one bra you keep coming back to, day in and day out. Your go-to gal. The BFF, which of course stands for Breast Friend Forever. It can be very difficult to find a great bra for the outrageously endowed. Once you find a style you like, you're a lifer. This bra is working overtime for those bodacious ta-tas. It's usually not the prettiest bra, but the most comfy and dependable. It's your heavy-duty, industrial strength workhorse. The Borax of bras. It never lets you down, except when it does- when the fabric is threadbare, your cups runneth over and the underwire fails... you know it's time.
To get to this point I had to go through the five stages of grief:
Denial: Several months ago I was out running errands and as usual I was locked and loaded in my favorite bra. It was lifting and separating dutifully when something struck a nerve- and that nerve was right under my armpit. It was a little bit of the underwire poking through. I pulled at it, readjusted and powered through my day. It was fine.
Anger: When I got home I took my bra off and inspected it. Sure enough, a tiny hole had formed and the underwire was just peeking through the opening. This goddamn bra was $85.!! Arrgh! I don't have time for this bullshit. I pushed the wire back in and hastily put it back on. I had shit to do. I went about my day in a foul mood. Two hours later, half the wire was coming up, practically out of my shirt and stabbing me repeatedly. Fucksticks.
Bargaining: I washed the bra and carefully hung it up to dry. I was sorry that occasionally I had dried it in the dryer. That's a no-no. I'll never ever do that again. Ever. Maybe I could just stitch the little hole? I can't sew for shit... Gorilla Glue? Duct tape? I guess I'll just pin it.
Depression: This isn't working. Now the pin is bothering me. And these straps are shot. I never really noticed that before. I can see my nipples through this threadbare fabric and it's not cute, even though when Current Legal Spouse sees it he says, "Oh, hellooo nipples!" and dances toward me. Um, no I don't think so. It's over. I can't believe this is the end. How can you do this to me, Beigee? After everything we've been through? Remember that weekend in San Francisco? Good times... *sniff*
Acceptance: My friend was gone. Gone to that ladies lounge in the sky. I had a small, private ceremony by the trash can while Josh Groban played softly in the background. The song was a fitting tribute and it really did raise me up, so high. Also, I may have been drunk. Josh knows a little something about love, loss and I bet, boobs. Strange, random middle-aged stalker boobs coming at him in his dressing room nightly- but I digress. I had to get out there and find a new breast friend and fast.
You cannot wear those lacy numbers in the back of your dresser on a daily basis. You guys can think what you want, but no woman in her right mind is running around Kroger in her sexy $200 Le Mystere lingerie. Or as my friend Steve calls it, "LINGER-REE!" It's too damn itchy. I think I wore my jog bra for three days straight, if you must know. But then I got tired of uni-boob. I've heard when you lose a leg or arm, you often have "phantom pains" of the lost limb still being there. I had that, too. OMG, y'all- I was a BRAMPUTEE! I would open my drawer and reach for Old Beige, but she was not there. She left a hole in my heart (and my armpit.) So when I felt ready, I went online and checked out a few prospects first. Then I met with Jean over in the "Intimates" department. Jean was matronly, cheerful and amply endowed herself. She understood my pain and loved me through it. She took me by the breast as only a woman groping another woman (in a strictly professional bra-fitting manner) could. I was measured, cupped, fastened-in and fascinated. I fell into a new relationship that fits perfectly. With several new friends in tow, I emerged from Intimates, triumphant. My heart (and my bra) will go on...
My new BFF, Nudie has not disappointed. That Jean was a bra JEANIOUS. I have a song in my heart and a spring in my chest. Not too much spring, just the appropriate amount. Let's just say things are really looking up!
Thank you for taking this journey with me.
Can I get a Brallelujah!
As you know, I just went through this loss myself. It's so tragic when you lose a great bra; and even worse when they discontinue that style/brand.
ReplyDeleteAnd you're so very spot on with the stages of grief. I've shoved back my under-wire and tried to stitch it many a time in order to keep that bra alive!
We also don't wear the shexay lingerie bras all the time either. To be honest, they don't even make those sexy ones in my size. The bigger the boob, the more substantial and hence atrocious looking the bra. They become the granny panties of bras. :(
You spoke my thoughts, Emmi!
DeleteSorry for your loss, Rachael. I laughed though.
ReplyDeleteI cheer when a bra dies. Good riddance. May they all go away.
ReplyDeleteGreat post, though. I laughed. Then I cried, because I felt the same way when I had to throw out my favorite leather pouch thong last year.
I have to say that I have a big L on my forehead when it comes to bras...I've been there, done that with a bunch of different brands and styles. I bought one of those damn Le Mystere $85 things Ofrah recommended - and the buying experience included being felt up by the 180 year old owner of the lingerie store - but hate how the underwire digs into my pits! I can tell I'm old b/c I just buy the same style bra in a few different colors. V Secret, and always wait for the $10 coupon to arrive before I buy ;)
ReplyDeleteAnd here I thought I was the only one that shed tears over bras gone bad. When the rouge wires begin attaching, I too will fight the battle and deny that it's time to lay it down to rest. Good bras, much like good men, are hard to find these days!
ReplyDeleteOh, whoa is me...I have been through so many bras, so many sizes...and before the surgery (yes, breast reduction surgery)...I had to be fitted by the Nazi bra fitter at "The Total Woman" for cancer victims. No, I am not a victim of cancer, just genetics. Before surgery I wore a cup size G, now just a mere DD. What a relief! It is so true that you buy the pretty one, sexy ones, push up and then the work one--more comfy. Of course I wear the comfy one mostly and the black sexy one for the 2 hour dinner and then off it goes!! It is the curse of the well-endowed (as men describe it), but I am with Cary--be gone with them all and I will go braless at home everyday:) Yeah!!!
ReplyDeleteHey Lady! Check out my newest post. There's something for ya there.
ReplyDeleteI feel your pain and I'm totally with emmi - I hate that my favorite bras get discontinued just as the last one dies. I love the little old ladies with their tape measures - bless their woolly little heads. That said, I just did the dumbest thing a busty girl could do: I just bought bras online from a company I've never worn before - and they are nursing bras. Pray for me.
ReplyDeleteHaha --- I'm with you! Many a time my bra wire pokes through the cloth and I push it back in and sew it up! Many times my wire breaks in two and I replace it with another bra wire!!
ReplyDelete