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My Nubra

Updated on July 14, 2008

One of my favorite writing techniques is to take a small moment in time and blow it totally out of proportion. I'm sure there's a literary term for it...but I don't have that knowledge. My husband calls it total bullsh*t...I call it literary license. The truth is, when I write it in this style it makes him squirm knowing he is often my unwiling target. *evil grin*

From the May, 2006 edition of "A Bird's Eye View"...

What the hell is THAT?" Ed said the other day as he gingerly prodded the object delivered by UPS.

We both watched in complete fascination as the source of our scrutiny, puckered up into a wrinkled, viscous mass. "Uh...I think I broke it," he said. I cocked my head, while using my finger to poke it myself and said, "No...I don't think you did. Isn't it odd though?"

There were two of them nestled neatly in a clear case. They could have been contact lenses for a giant, even though they did seem a bit thick and upon touching them they did that puckering thing. They were also incredibly tacky...that is to say, sticky. Fascinated, I carefully peeled one out of its cradle and held it up. "It's my Nubra."

"New...bra? I know it's new...but it doesn't look like any bra I've ever seen," Ed replied as he continued to peer at the new acquisition over my shoulder.

"No, NUbra...N-U-B-R-A...that's what it's called, but is technically my new bra I guess."

"You going to try it on?"

Armed with directions and my Nubra, I retreated to the bathroom while Ed continued his patter of dialogue. He had absconded with the box and like most men I could tell if I left him alone with my nubra, he wouldn't be able to resist experimenting on it. "It says here that it's made of silicon...I'll be damned. And you don't want to puncture that thing...but if you do you can stick a band-aid on it and it should be good as new."

I bolted the bathroom door.

Hmmm....step one...wash and dry...err the area of application. It's important so that the cups will adhere to your...uh....boobs. Now I was a bit concerned, the water was rather tepid and the room temperature was a bit chilly. Not being the most overly-endowed woman in the world, I wondered if I should at least wait until the girls were warmed up again. I figured it would probably be a good idea, so while I waited I read the next step....

Let's see...while inverting the cup and holding the them over the breast in a natural position and smooth out the edges, making sure that placement is even and at the same height. Well, I could see how getting them lopsided would be rather goofy looking. Ummm....once both are in place, hook the two pieces together like a front closing bra and then firmly set the in place by pressing down with your hand on each one. Okay....not rocket science.

In order to achieve maximum cleavage, place the cups further apart. Oh? Cleavage? I've never really achieved cleavage before. Well, if I wear an underwire, gather the flesh from beneath my armpits and tuck it in I can usually attain something that passes for cleavage.

Standing in front of the mirror, with one eye on the diagram and the other on my reflection I proceed to slap a sticky, silicon-gel filled cup onto my left breast. Yuck! Okay, that felt unpleasant and it's not quite positioned right. Peeling it off...grimacing. Okay...try again. There! *smooth, smooth, pat*

The second one proved to be a bit more of a challenge as I tried to get it even with the left one. I had to peel it off a couple of times, but it really was rather simple. Now for the cleavage part. Oh yeah...they weren't lying about that. Sure, it looks a bit like you have a double mammogram happening because your breasts are kinda squished together like the bow of a Carnival Fun Ship...but I'm sure in a face to face (yeah, right) meeting no man would realize the difference.

But just to test it out, I opened the bathroom door and walked out in my nubra. "What do you think?"

"Oh have cleavage!!"

Now here's the fun part....

"I really like this. It's straps....and you can reuse these up to about 100 times! It'll be great under my tank tops and gauze shirts, rather than that uncomfortable strapless underwire. I know it was rather expensive..."

"You should get another one."

"You think so?"

"No...get two more."


The truth is, it's very hard for a woman to find undergarments that will please both sexes. What most men find attractive...women find tortuous. Pantyhose...I think the devil invented those. High heeled shoes? Some sadist was bored one day and figured he'd invent something to eventually cripple women. I try to avoid both of those, so it's rather ironic that I would be concerned with my boobage factor. While I'm sure these things will look good under clothing, I have my doubts about how they would operate in real life....

Imagine you are making out with somebody and off comes the clothing...and a nubra is revealed. The man at first is perplexed. After years of perfecting his technique in unhooking both the back and front latching bras, he is now confronted with a bra that at first glance seems to pose no impediments to easy removal. He'll see the front hook anyway...recognize it and proceed to unlatch it simply because it is there. When the bra still doesn't budge, rather than ask for directions he'll begin to experiment. Be him how to peel it off but then hide it or it may get more attention than you do. If not at first, surely when he thinks you are asleep.

I had a specific reason for buying this thing. A couple of years ago I bought this backless semi-sheer shirt at the mall. Just looking at it allowed me to wistfully recall how much fun I had in my twenties wearing shirts such as these. I showed it to my sister and as we stood there admiring it, a clerk with a very sour look on her face minced over in her 3" heels to assist us. "Can I help you with something...Ma'am?" Oooh...the little tramp called me Ma'am on purpose...I just knew it.

"Actually I was just admiring this top. It's adorable how it laces up the back. Does it come in any other colors?"

"Uh...well. I think those laces are for the front. Y' me take that for you. I think it might be a bit too YOUNG for you. Let me show you something else."

My sister and I both looked at eachother. Did this teenage version of Pamela Anderson think we were idiots and couldn't tell how to wear a shirt? I could see that if I had decided to knock the overly-lipsticked little tart onto her low-rise jeaned butt, my sister would have held her down and maybe smacked her around a bit too.

"I don't think that will necesary...I'll take it."

For some reason I had to resist the urge to say smugly as I whipped out my Visa, "You may be young, but I have a platinum card! Hah!" But then I would have had to compare myself to Kathy Bates in "Fried Green Tomatoes"...

I still haven't been brave enough yet to wear that shirt. If it had come in black I might have worn it by now....but with my nubra....ha!! I wonder if that obnoxious brat is working at the mall still. I may have to call my sister, see if she wants to help me take my nubra out for it's maiden voyage.


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    • spryte profile imageAUTHOR


      10 years ago from Arizona, USA

      Hey Zu! *hugs* :)

      Me? Mucking around? LOL!

    • profile image


      10 years ago

      Believe it or not, I did google on "Nubra" just to see if our spryte here was being serious or just mucking around like usual...

      Well... I found out that she was fair dinkum about this sticky invention!

      Good on ya spryte.

      And I understand why your Ed wanted a few more of them things! :-)

    • Shadesbreath profile image


      10 years ago from California

      Funny story and I love your "voice" in this article. I laughed at the "procede to unlatch it because it's there" thing. That's so funny, and so true. And Sally's comment is right in regards to that clerk... I've heard my mother talk about when she realized she'd gotten to an age of invisibility too.

    • spryte profile imageAUTHOR


      10 years ago from Arizona, USA

      Oh the pressure!! :)

      There are times when I wish I were left alone more often in a store (another blog...another time). But I know what you mean about rude clerks. I hate it when they are so busy chatting up the bagger that they forget I'm there. Once, I had to listen to about 10 minutes of inane chatter over whether or not the cashier should call this boy at school and whether or not he liked her and omygod what was she going to do if he didn't...

      But more often than not, I seem to get the chatty cashier that wants to start up a lifetime friendship while a long line of customers begins to form behind me. That can be painful as well. LOL!

    • Sally's Trove profile image


      10 years ago from Southeastern Pennsylvania

      Believe me when I tell you I would have been competing with your sister for the choicest places to smack the brat.

      Consider yourself lucky that she called you Ma'am. These days when I go shopping, I get called nothing, because somehow I have become invisible.

      Has this ever happened to you? You're in line at the convenience store. The cashier is chatting up the guy in front of you. It's your turn and you get no eye contact, no Hi, no nothing from the girl. In fact, she doesn't even turn her head in your direction when she sticks her hand out for your money. Now, the next person in line? Here we go with the chatting up again. The first time it happened, I just thought it a little odd. But after it happened in different stores with different clerks many more times, I could see there was something much more than odd going on. Finally, I decided that I had hit the age where I just plain became invisible.

      I'm working on using this changed physical state to my advantage. I'll let you know what I come up with.

      Meanwhile, write on! Your words are going better than a blueberry muffin with my morning coffee.

    • trish1048 profile image


      10 years ago

      Spryte! you just don't stop delivering! I am sitting here in stitches LOL,,,,tooo toooo funny!! I was right there with you imagining the dialogue and interaction between you and your hubby. As a famous commercial goes, priceless!

      Thanks again!



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