How could I resist? The moment this picture appeared on my Facebook page, I knew I’d have to meander down this road. Oh, the whining and rantings I could indulge in here! I’m wracking my brain trying to come up with something, anything that I hate more than shopping for a new bra, and not much else comes to mind.
My meander can’t help but start back around 20 years ago when I quite literally had nothing to write about on the subject. I mean nothing. So much so that I had to buy padded bras in the smallest available size in order to fill out my clothes. Flat as a pancake. And yes, it bothered me. I do admit to feeling rather inferior in any situation where other women were present, fully present if you get my drift.
I was skinny. My nickname was Twigs, and for good reason. If I turned sideways I was virtually invisible. Heck, as soon as any other woman walked into the room, I became invisible. There was simply nothing there to draw the eye in. When I met my husband in 1991, I weighed all of 98 pounds and the only curve in my entire body was the occasional curl in my hair.
What a difference 20 years (and discovering cheesecake) can make! Now I’m a fully-loaded smorgasbord of lumps and bumps and curves, all of which are drifting and, well, meandering where I wish they wouldn’t!
I recently found myself meandering through the bra section in my favourite department store. A saleslady with kind and empathetic eyes approached me and asked me if I was looking for anything in particular. I sighed and said “Relief”. Her eyes lit up and we embarked on an hour-long trek through the myriad of styles and shapes and sizes. Although she discreetly never said a word, I think she was surprised to see that I had not exaggerated my dilemma…and quietly returned the half-dozen boxes of bras she had picked out for me to their shelves, and came back with a whole new approach.
I was glad for her expertise that day. We were both surprised when the best bra turned out to be two sizes and a whole cup larger than what I had walked in with. The feeling of relief was instantaneous. I didn’t even want to take it off and she understood. So I bought two. They have definitely made a difference…those are the kinds of things we might take for granted, but truly can make or break our day. Every morning when I put that new bra on, I heave a huge sigh of thanks and gratitude to that kind saleslady for her patience and understanding that day.
I could never have imagined being in this situation 20 years ago! I mean, I jiggle and bounce like a bowl full of jello now. I never had anything that jiggled back then. And let me tell you, if you don’t already know, jiggling can hurt! Yes, taking off your bra at the end of the day (or sooner if you’re so lucky) should be cause for happy anticipation and celebration. But I have to be careful these days. Once that thing comes off, I can’t just merrily run to answer the door, or pop out on the front step to catch the cool evening breeze. In the words of Maya Angelou, these babies are in a race to see who reaches my belly button first, and it ain’t a pretty sight. Carefully tucked inside that beautiful new bra, they’re perky and proper, but the moment they’re set free, well, they’re just downright exuberant in their eagerness to escape. I can’t sit outside with those things bouncing around like that. Let’s just say that I’m definitely no longer invisible, sideways or otherwise.
Sigh. One of my online friends who commented on the above picture recommended one of those camisoles with the built-in shelf bra. Been there, done that, and these babies just couldn’t be contained. They just kept sneaking out and jumping off the shelf. I couldn’t get anything done around the house, what with having to constantly reach in and tuck those stray puppies back into place.
No, I have to wait until the very end of the day, until I’m absolutely certain that I won’t be answering the door or trekking around outside again, before I can indulge in that delicious moment when that bra can finally come off and I can let them droop and sag to their newest lowest level. Sometimes it’s a sigh of relief, sometimes it’s a wee wince and whine.
Somedays I find myself longing for those flat days when a bra was the last thing on my mind and it didn’t matter one iota whether it was on or off. But to be honest, my biggest regret of those days isn’t that I didn’t have anything to flaunt, it’s that I still hadn’t discovered cheesecake. In those days, my metabolism was so good that I could have eaten as much cheesecake as I wanted and never would have gained an ounce. Sigh. Now I only have to look at a cheesecake sitting on the deli shelf and feel my body expand in all of its bouncing curvaceous glory in its eager willingness to make room for a piece.
But that’s another story. Today, it’s a holiday here and we don’t have to go anywhere. So guess who’s playing bra-hookey today! Get along there, you wild little navel gazers!
Copyright © Sharon C. Matthies, Meanderings Blogging The Journey, 2012. All rights reserved.