I had another traumatic bra-related incident yesterday.
I may be the
only person I know over the age of 12 who can write those words and mean them.
Make that 14, because I had no need for one until about then. ANd when I did start
wearing them, for most of my life it was a 32A, which is the smallest size you can
buy without a "training bra" label. I was somewhat stunned recently to find myself
in the Gap buying a 34B -- a lot of my existing ones, regualr and sport, had been
getting tight under the arms, and I put it down to the effect of weight lifting on
pectoral muscles.
So back to yesterday. We cleaned up from the party,
a relatively trivial task since apparently all our local friends are growing old
and sedate (in some cases too sedate to even show up, drat them) and then Rudder
took off for a business trip. Naturally I took advantage of the rare alone time to
go shopping, and ended up doing something I'd never done. I got measured
properly.
You know how they say 60% of all American women, or some
such number, wear the wrong size bra? well, apparently I am among that number (I
figured for years I couldn't possibly be, because you can't go any smaller than a
32A.) But as of yesterday, I am a 32C. Apparently that tightness wasn't from the
band size.
I mean really, a C? What's that all about? Where did these
things come from? More importantly, what is my body doing and why have I not been
consulted? First there's the discovery last year that I'm a full inch taller than
I'd believed I was for years, then there's the fact that I weigh a good five
pounds more than I did a year ago (just after the height revelation, so I can't
blame that, dammit), the spreading gut -- the general contours are the same as
always and I still look fairly small around, but it looks softer and now
this. Next thing you know, the little bitches will start sagging on me. (They
still don't so far, knock cellulite.)
I'm still in quest of a T-shirt
bra -- one made not to show under clothing -- that performs as advertised. (By the
way, what sort of idiot markets something as a T-shirt bra, with te fiberfill for
smoothing, no seams and all that, and then puts freaking bows at the base
of each strap?) But now I'm scared to spend the money, just in case I morph again.