The Joys of Bra Shopping
Can i just take a moment here to express my complete and utter HATRED of an activity I think that many of us here have likely engaged in?
I speak of, my friends, of the horrors of BRA SHOPPING.
First off, can I just say that I HATE bras. HATE THEM. Why wasn't I around for the bra-burning in the 60s? I would have TOTALLY burned by bra. I would have jumped on the women's rights bandwagon regardless of how I felt about rights just for the opportunity to burn my bra. I hate them that much. Never wear them at home. I come home from work or out wherever, take off the shoes, take off the bra. They are SO UNCOMFORTABLE. I mean, a man had to have invented bras. If not a man, then a masochistic woman. Really, what is a bra but an overly tight elastic band wrapped around one's body (that generally fastens in the back, therefore requiring women to become contortionists to even put the damn things on), with straps that either dig into your shoulders or slide down your arms (trapping them in awkward positions), forcing you to shove them back into place a zillion times a day (and boy, I love doing that little bra-shoving dance)?
And the cups? Underwire? Yeah, I love wearing a THIN METAL WIRE next to one of the more sensitive spots on my body. Tell me again how thin metal wires shoved under my breasts magically hold them up? If it were a metal shelf, ok, maybe I could understand the concept. But a metal wire? I mean, what the hell is that supposed to do but cut into my skin (and set off metal detectors at the airport)?
Despite my great hatred of them, I went bra shopping yesterday. (Actually, perhaps my great hatred caused me to have put off this fun adventure for...gads, I have no idea how long it's been since i bought new bras. Mine are pretty sad looking.) So I go to Kohl's and wander around BraLand and choose several likely-looking candidates, starting first with the no-underwire types. I mean, if I can avoid being stabbed by metal and setting off alarms in public places staffed with hordes of heaviliy armed people searching for terrorists, then by all means--let's avoid the wire.
Now, I've put on a few pounds in the past couple of years (which I'm looking to lose, if anyone is needing some extra body fat for the winter), so I'm not exactly sure what size braband I need. So I get a couple in my old size, some in the next size up. Or attempt to. Now, I don't have very large breasts. But apparently all women who might need a larger size band also have boobs needing large cup sizes. Except me. Large-ish sizeband, small/average size cups. Where are those bras? Well, apparently, they only make a few like that and they are buried in the forest of push-ups and demi-cups and full-coverages and minimizers that comprises BraLand.
Out of desperation, I started trying on bras that were the "right" band size, but a cup larger than I have ever worn. And trust me, my boobs have not grown. I would know. And guess what? I can wear a cup size larger in several of the bras I tried on!!! WTF? I mean, I've spent years not-quite-filling the smaller size...yet when I try on a bra that is a full cup size larger...it FITS????? And not just one bra...SEVERAL bras in the larger cup size fit me fine. I am starting to think these cup sizes are randomly assigned by nearsighted factory workers standing 10 feet away from the bra they are sizing.
So I try on approximately 4,321 bras. Granted, I didn't count, so I could be lowballing that figure. Now, a lot of those bras were "duplicates." By duplicates, I mean same bra, different sizes. Because of course bra sizes are about as consistent across brands as jeans sizes are. Which is to say, not very. *sigh* So I had to figure out my "range" of sizes, then try on more than one bra in each style because who knew which size I would be in that particular style?
And of course, since I didn't have enough annoyance to deal with, there is always the extra frustrating fact that bra makers can't be consistent with sizing WITHIN THE SAME BRAND. Meaning that in Style A of a Vanity Fair bra I might wear size X, yet in Style B of a Vanity Fair bra, I wear size z. I mean, come on!!!!! Give us women a litle help here, manufacturers!!!!
I did discover some camisole-type garments that provide support in the breasticle area. I was fairly pleased with this exciting discovery and purchased three. I am hoping that they work so well that I can perhaps forgo wearing the torture devices on some occasions.
You know, when you try on bras, you also have to try on shirts. I mean, if you really want to see if a bra looks ok, you have to put a shirt over it. Does the chest look like I'm going for the Madonna-pointy-bra look? Can you see the cup seams? Is that "silky smooth" fabric bunched up and looking bizarre under the shirt? If a cool breeze blows, am I gonna look like a porn star? So in addition to taking a half million bras off and on and off and on and off and on, I was yanking a shirt off and on and off and on and off and on...and screwing my hair up...you get the picture.
The only positive (besides maybe the camisole things)? The store wasn't busy and I could take a whole slew of bras into the dressing room with me at a go...if I'd had to follow the "5 garments at a time" rule like the little dressing room sign said, I'd have started ripping my hair out in chunks. So I only had to go through the redressing/fixing the hair/empty the dressing room of rejects/restock the selection of stuff to try on process like...4 times I think.
Well, after over TWO HOURS of this inane torture, I found a bra that fit without cutting off my circulation and that looks normal under clothes and will hopefully keep my breasts "properly" supported and happy and snug like a bug in a rug. So I bought three of them. Which, I sincerely hope, means I will not have to go bra shopping for a VERY VERY LONG TIME.
Like, maybe, never.
I speak of, my friends, of the horrors of BRA SHOPPING.
First off, can I just say that I HATE bras. HATE THEM. Why wasn't I around for the bra-burning in the 60s? I would have TOTALLY burned by bra. I would have jumped on the women's rights bandwagon regardless of how I felt about rights just for the opportunity to burn my bra. I hate them that much. Never wear them at home. I come home from work or out wherever, take off the shoes, take off the bra. They are SO UNCOMFORTABLE. I mean, a man had to have invented bras. If not a man, then a masochistic woman. Really, what is a bra but an overly tight elastic band wrapped around one's body (that generally fastens in the back, therefore requiring women to become contortionists to even put the damn things on), with straps that either dig into your shoulders or slide down your arms (trapping them in awkward positions), forcing you to shove them back into place a zillion times a day (and boy, I love doing that little bra-shoving dance)?
And the cups? Underwire? Yeah, I love wearing a THIN METAL WIRE next to one of the more sensitive spots on my body. Tell me again how thin metal wires shoved under my breasts magically hold them up? If it were a metal shelf, ok, maybe I could understand the concept. But a metal wire? I mean, what the hell is that supposed to do but cut into my skin (and set off metal detectors at the airport)?
Despite my great hatred of them, I went bra shopping yesterday. (Actually, perhaps my great hatred caused me to have put off this fun adventure for...gads, I have no idea how long it's been since i bought new bras. Mine are pretty sad looking.) So I go to Kohl's and wander around BraLand and choose several likely-looking candidates, starting first with the no-underwire types. I mean, if I can avoid being stabbed by metal and setting off alarms in public places staffed with hordes of heaviliy armed people searching for terrorists, then by all means--let's avoid the wire.
Now, I've put on a few pounds in the past couple of years (which I'm looking to lose, if anyone is needing some extra body fat for the winter), so I'm not exactly sure what size braband I need. So I get a couple in my old size, some in the next size up. Or attempt to. Now, I don't have very large breasts. But apparently all women who might need a larger size band also have boobs needing large cup sizes. Except me. Large-ish sizeband, small/average size cups. Where are those bras? Well, apparently, they only make a few like that and they are buried in the forest of push-ups and demi-cups and full-coverages and minimizers that comprises BraLand.
Out of desperation, I started trying on bras that were the "right" band size, but a cup larger than I have ever worn. And trust me, my boobs have not grown. I would know. And guess what? I can wear a cup size larger in several of the bras I tried on!!! WTF? I mean, I've spent years not-quite-filling the smaller size...yet when I try on a bra that is a full cup size larger...it FITS????? And not just one bra...SEVERAL bras in the larger cup size fit me fine. I am starting to think these cup sizes are randomly assigned by nearsighted factory workers standing 10 feet away from the bra they are sizing.
So I try on approximately 4,321 bras. Granted, I didn't count, so I could be lowballing that figure. Now, a lot of those bras were "duplicates." By duplicates, I mean same bra, different sizes. Because of course bra sizes are about as consistent across brands as jeans sizes are. Which is to say, not very. *sigh* So I had to figure out my "range" of sizes, then try on more than one bra in each style because who knew which size I would be in that particular style?
And of course, since I didn't have enough annoyance to deal with, there is always the extra frustrating fact that bra makers can't be consistent with sizing WITHIN THE SAME BRAND. Meaning that in Style A of a Vanity Fair bra I might wear size X, yet in Style B of a Vanity Fair bra, I wear size z. I mean, come on!!!!! Give us women a litle help here, manufacturers!!!!
I did discover some camisole-type garments that provide support in the breasticle area. I was fairly pleased with this exciting discovery and purchased three. I am hoping that they work so well that I can perhaps forgo wearing the torture devices on some occasions.
You know, when you try on bras, you also have to try on shirts. I mean, if you really want to see if a bra looks ok, you have to put a shirt over it. Does the chest look like I'm going for the Madonna-pointy-bra look? Can you see the cup seams? Is that "silky smooth" fabric bunched up and looking bizarre under the shirt? If a cool breeze blows, am I gonna look like a porn star? So in addition to taking a half million bras off and on and off and on and off and on, I was yanking a shirt off and on and off and on and off and on...and screwing my hair up...you get the picture.
The only positive (besides maybe the camisole things)? The store wasn't busy and I could take a whole slew of bras into the dressing room with me at a go...if I'd had to follow the "5 garments at a time" rule like the little dressing room sign said, I'd have started ripping my hair out in chunks. So I only had to go through the redressing/fixing the hair/empty the dressing room of rejects/restock the selection of stuff to try on process like...4 times I think.
Well, after over TWO HOURS of this inane torture, I found a bra that fit without cutting off my circulation and that looks normal under clothes and will hopefully keep my breasts "properly" supported and happy and snug like a bug in a rug. So I bought three of them. Which, I sincerely hope, means I will not have to go bra shopping for a VERY VERY LONG TIME.
Like, maybe, never.