Sanna's Bag

“I never seem to have what I need when I need it. I’m going to make a belt-bag that’s bigger on the inside than on the outside, and just carry everything with me.”

Monday, February 13, 2012

over shoulder boulder holders

I got fitted for a new bra today.  In my youth, I  was - oh heck - who besides me gives a rip how lovely I was 30 years ago?  Let's just say that fat and gravity have had their wicked way with me and I need a lot more structure now.  And, as most women realize, going into a department store lingerie department and trying to find brassieres that might actually be what you think might possibly be the correct size is an exercise in frustration and futility.  A 36D is not the same shape and size in any two styles.  One flaps loosely around the ribcage and the next inhibits breathing.  Another has cups that would hold you and two BigMacs, the next leaves you overflowing top, bottom and both sides.  You want to get it to fit close enough to the ribs to stay in place, while not squeezing up those armpit rolls and back boobs. You want the cups large enough so that the front of the bra doesn't become a tiny trampoline, stretched across the chasm, but not so big that they wrinkle. So I bit the bullet and went to a fitter.  At least she knew her stock and I didn't have to re-dress every time I needed to find something else to try.  Instead I stood half nekkid in the chilly dressing room and tried not to study the ruins of my body in the mirror, while she bustled around her shop, finding possibilities and fielding questions from her junior staff.

One thingI have had to resign myself to - the bigger the bras, the less likely they are to be pretty.  White, nude or black, with minimal decoration.  If I was still a frisky little b-cup I could go with patterns and pretty colors and matching little panties.  I could look for lace and embellishments and whimsical trimmings.  The less you actually need a bra, the more you have to choose from.  The more you need to raise the fallen, uplift the masses, and support the weary, the fewer options you have.

It ain't cheap, either!  I wound up with two comfortable bras and spent over $100.  This is clearly a wash -one-and-wear-the-other situation from now on in.  But I stand a bit straighter, and my shoulders will no longer have those gouges pressed into the flesh. What do truly buxom women do? Going commando throws my balance off as it is.  How do the braless Walmartians manage?  They sure don't make any sudden turns, I can tell you.

8 Comments:

  • At 5:55 PM , Blogger Willow said...

    My sentiments exactly. I recommend Nordstroms.

     
  • At 6:34 PM , Anonymous Lisa Nowak said...

    If you have the brand name and model number for the bras, look them up online. You might be able to find them at a substantial discount.

     
  • At 6:46 PM , Blogger sophanne said...

    Yes. Still afraid of the fitter. What if the fitter is wrong thinks I. Neve actually becoming a true B I go for commando as often as circumstances allow!

     
  • At 4:53 AM , Blogger Donna Lee said...

    I have one favorite style that still fits and the troubling part is that it gets harder and harder to find. Why are all the bras already breast shaped? Aren't they supposed to mold to my shape? I don't like the ones that stand up by themselves! They make me nervous somehow.

     
  • At 5:05 AM , Blogger KnitTech said...

    Gravity sucks!

     
  • At 9:21 AM , Blogger Lyssa said...

    Gravity is a bummer, ain't it? I haven't been able to go without one since I was twelve.

    I'm a Frederick's of Hollywood girl, myself. They do a pretty good job for my weird size.

     
  • At 5:11 AM , Anonymous Benita said...

    I went to Nordstroms and had my fitting - expensive bras, but goodness it is nice to wear one that fits! I still hate underwires, though. Unfortunately, my post-menopausal boobs require them.

     
  • At 7:36 AM , Blogger Amy Lane said...

    My weary fallen masses use walmart bras--but yeah-- not pretty. My entire philosophy in the process is, the closer they are schwacked to my chest, the less miserable I'll be as I try to navigate the world.

     

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