- Fashion and Beauty»
FINDING THE RIGHT BRA SIZE
One day, approximately two years ago, I had a revelation. As I was getting ready for work one day, I realized, much to my dismay, that my wardrobe was looking rather worn out. If you must know the truth, it was downright pathetic. I was wearing clothes that looked as if they were dug out of a dumpster. Worn, dreary, dingy, shabby and so clearly outdated. The thought that I really must do something about it kept nagging at my brain. Being the procrastinator that I am, I kept putting it off. Apparently, I was waiting for my savior to nominate me for What Not To Wear. However, that didn't happen.
Since I've aged, I've learned to hate clothes shopping. I found I can no longer pull things off a rack and take them home without even trying them on. Gone are the days of designer jeans, skimpy tops, shorter than short skirts and high heels. No, my wardrobe was a deep, dark abyss. Elastic took the place of buttons and zippers. Black, brown, navy blue and dark gray replaced my cheery whites, reds and yellows. Big, dark and baggy had become my motto. The bigger and darker, the better. Flats and sneakers quickly replaced the high heels. Comfort, right? Well, that's what I told my tired brain. Dark and baggy things hide a multitude of sins, not to mention, made me look like I still had a figure. When I wore baggy clothes, I was asked, hey, have you lost weight, your clothes are getting baggy. Hahahaha! Little did those people know they were baggy because I'd gained weight, not lost it. But, who was I kidding? My days with a figure to die for were long gone. 36-24-36? Hah! What's that, picks for the lottery? No, it had become a serious situation.
Ok. The day came, and off I ventured to the local mall. Down to business. God, I dreaded this. I had to go in and find things I felt were appealing, and go off to the dressing room. Actually, after browsing for a while, I was getting a bit pleased with the number of things I found that I thought, maybe these will work. Now, there I stood in front of the dreaded 360 degree mirror. Oh geeze! What the hell happened to my boobs? The reflection staring back at me had boobs that I didn't recognize. Wow, did I even have a bra on? Why, yes I sure did, however, it didn't appear that way, not only to me, but I guessed, to the public in general as well. My bra was so old and worn it lost its purpose many moons ago. It left me looking bra-less, which, if I were 20, would be great. But, I'm not. How in the world was I going to even find new clothes that would look good?
So, with that depressing sight, I put my top back on and went out to the sales floor and asked for assistance. The woman was very friendly and more than willing to help. She said, what's the problem, dear? I said, well, I am in desperate need of a new bra, and to tell you the truth, I have no idea what size I need. (The size of the thing I took off was long gone). She said, well, have you ever been fitted for a bra? I said no, actually, I never have.
So there I was, at 50-+ years, being fitted for a bra. It was a slightly, well, no, more than slightly, embarrassing experience. Well, when the saleslady told me what size I needed, I was shocked. Left to my own devices, I had been wearing, or, should I say, squeezing into a bra that was three sizes too small. No wonder my clothes (although baggy) didn't look good. My upper torso had morphed into a no-shape torso. Now, the saleslady said to me, this bra I'm giving you will feel tight, but it's supposed to. Ok, I thought. She said, once you get it on, bend over, and slip your hand into the cup and lift your breast so that it falls fully into the cup. Then stand up. I did that. When I stood up, I was speechless. Staring back at me was a woman who had a chest. I had boobs! And God, thank you, they were bigger than I thought! I was so excited. I had a chest, and a waist that I could see. I wanted to do a happy dance. (The saleslady must have thought I was nuts). I have to admit, it was feeling pretty weird. It felt like my boobs were right under my neck. They weren't, but it sure felt like it. Talk about an uplift! It kinda gives you an idea of how low I had sunk, er, I mean the boobs. And wow, then I realized I didn't need a boob job! I wouldn't be one of those women whose boobs peek out from under their skirt when they sat down! All it took was the right bra to give me back the real feeling of being a woman.
Today, with that experience behind me, there is a slight downside. The store I go to, which, by the way, has become my store of choice is a bit pricey. The bras start at $40 and go up. Prior to this, if I spent $15, I thought I had a good buy. Wrong. But, that said, even the pricey ones do not last forever, which I foolishly thought they would, given the amount of money I had to spend. And yes, even with the proper care, they still wear out. In any case, this store is doing its job of keeping me fashionable, with pride.
So, for you ladies out there contemplating breast enhancements, do yourselves a favor. Get a real fitting for a bra by a professional. It could save you tons of money!
I wonder, is there a place to go to, to get fitted for panties? :)
- Why I Go Bra Free
Bras have become such an fundamental part of women's wardrobes that most women never even consider not wearing one. Many women are therefore very surprised to learn that the modern brassiere is quite a recent...