Monday, January 29, 2007

Brassiere




According to the dictionary a brassiere is a woman's undergarment worn to support and give contour to the breasts. Seems simple and basic enough. So when the hell did purchasing said simple and basic undergarment become such a fucking chore? According to who ever it is that is in charge of bra details ( I'm thinking it is a group of men, who else would make something so simple, so complicated) most of us wear the wrong bra size. Is it any wonder that we can't figure out what fits right? We can't even figure out what style we need to contour and support our breasts. There are push up bras, shoulder and back support bras (my shoulders don't need support nor does my back, my breasts do). There are under wire, no under wire (which by the way are not an easy find). We can buy sports bras, strapless bras, demi cup and padded bras. Despite the multitude of styles, sizes, colors, and fabrics, purchasing a bra sucks. (Unless of course you are a prepubescent female when generally owning a bra is badge of honor.)

I need/want a white bra. One I can wear with white t-shirts/blouses. Yes, I am one of those crazy women who must wear a white bra with a white shirt, in fact I always match my "undergarments" to my clothes. I think it has something to do with the old adage about always wearing clean underwear, in case you get into an accident and have to be rushed to the hospital, I never want the emergency room doctor to think my mother screwed up with me, so I wear clean and matching underwear. Anyhow, my pretties here is where things go awry. First I have narrowed done my right size, thank god I have a college degree and know a few engineers. This feat required an analytical and mathematical mind as well as several department store bra clerks. (your finer department stores do have specialty bra clerks) Armed with my new found bra knowledge I head to the store on my quest for that fabulous white bra. Bullshit! After many stores, and many stupid clerks and way too much fucking time spent in changing rooms, I came home empty.

I don't want to make a fashion statement, I always wear my bra "under" my clothes. I just want a plain, white bra! Is that so wrong? I don't want a lace bra, a padded bra, a bra that has a mind of it's own. I don't want a bra that promises to lift and separate unless it can also cook dinner. I don't want a bra that "angels" would be happy to be seen in. (who is this Victoria? we all know she isn't keeping any damn secrets) I don't want a bra that will mold my breasts into some extraordinary shape even if it promises to drive the men wild. All I want is a plain white bra! A bra that will lift my breasts just enough to keep them off my knees but doesn't point them in the direction of planet Pluto ( it's still a planet to me). I want a basic simple white brassiere. (Gotta love the word brassiere sounds so much more important than bra.) I fondly remember the days when I didn't wear a brassier. Now of course with age and gravity, going without is just not a pretty picture. I, being the determined female that I am, will not give up, I will continue my quest. I will continue to wish harm upon all the idiots that invented brassieres, research brassieres, and tout the beauty of brassieres. But I will show 'em. I will find that perfect white brassiere and when I do, I am buying enough white bras to get me through until my 80Th birthday. At 80, who cares about brassieres, I'll just be known as that crazy old lady whose breasts hang to her ankles. Life is sweet.

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