If you are a gentleman...stop reading right now...
this post if for GIRLS ONLY!!
Now where was I...oh yes...
Today was filled with tears, hyperventilating and about 22 million hot flashes.
No, I wasn't auditioning for American Idol. Although I could give Steven Tyler a run for his money in the bad language department.
No, I did not win the 90 million dollar PowerBall Lottery. You have to play to win, ya know.
No, I didn't sell my memoir. I would still be crying and hyperventilating if that was the case.
There was high drama, incredible feats of science and engineering, as well as the need to drink heavily.
Today I brought a new bra.
If you have visited this blog before or met me in person, you know I am not a small woman. Mind you, I am smaller than I was a year ago. I am even smaller than I was six months ago. Hence the need for today's expedition into the magical world of women's undergarments.
Now, I am a realistic woman. I am almost 44 years old and have had two babies. I have weighed as much as 300 pounds and as little as 150. I currently weigh somewhere in between.
Where is none of your business. A girl's gotta have a few secrets.
I was an athlete in high school and everything was tight and in it's place. Then I got married and had children.
Things began to change.
You know what I mean ladies. Things shift, inflate and then deflate. More structure is required of the brassiere than had been needed before.
Can you say underwire?
I hit 40 and well, things went south. So far south that they now live in Tampa Bay and I don't think they are coming back up anytime soon.
My current undergarment selection was stretched and fraying. It pinched on one side and I had actually sewn the underwire back in twice for one of my bras. Since I have recently lost some more weight, I would have to face my fear, swallow my pride and purchase a few new bras.
Today was the day. I had done my research and I knew that my local Nordstroms had an award winning team of experts in the arts of fashion and structural engineering. I prayed all the way there that I would find a kind soul to walk me through the process.
Enter Mary. Yep, her name was Mary and she greeted me with a smile.
She took one look at my face drenched in sweat, my pulse pounding on the side of my neck, took my hand and said "It's going to be fine sweetheart. We'll find what your looking for. That's what girlfriends do. They help each other out."
I had a new girlfriend. Wahoo!
She literally took my hand and guided me back to the dressing room with her measuring tape slung around her neck and two "sizing bras" in her hands.
Once safely ensconced behind a locked door, the work began.
Oh yes sister friend, I do mean work.
My new girlfriend Mary measured and measured and measured some more. Then we tried on the "sizing bras" and finally the bra shopping calisthenics got under way.
There was lifting, separating, adjusting, scooping, tugging, pulling, and yes the "windshield wiper" (ladies, you know what that is and don't deny it), accompanied by about 15 million hot flashes in between all the hooking and un-hooking.
I thought a mammogram was bad. Holy moley...that ain't nothin my friend!
30 minutes later my size was correctly determined and the real "fun" began.
"Fun" was the term my new girlfriend Mary used while smiling her best girlfriend smile. Now I had to pick the right style and fabric that I felt comfortable in.
Sweet gracious me. Whatever happened to the simple over the shoulder boulder holder made by my friends at Playtex? There were more styles and colors to chose from than truffle choices at the Godiva Chocolate Boutique.
Now that's my kind of store...but I digress...
Girlfriend Mary began to pepper me with questions:
Did I want "sexy" ( i.e. like a hooker) or "conservative" (i.e. an 80 year old grandma)? Ummm...somewhere in between maybe??
Did I want pointy cups or smooth? Barbie boobs?? No thank you.
How structured did I want the bra to be? Structured enough to have my 30 year old boobs back?
Did I want see through lace or all covered up cotton? How about pretty and comfortable...
Embellishments? What??? Ummm...nothing that would set off the airport metal detector thank you very much!
SERIOUSLY People!!!! I just wanted a bra that did not cost more than my monthly grocery bill and actually, you know, kept the girls where they were supposed to be!!!
60 minutes and 78 (yes, I typed that number correctly) bra fittings later, I had in my possession something more precious than gold.
Four pretty, comfortable and structurally competent brassieres.
Yes, there is a God.
Now I need a drink...
Labels: My Crazy Life