We’ve covered such random subjects, like putting on Spanx and the trials of bathing suit shopping…so let’s cut to the chase and get to the one that every woman experiences: bra shopping. Now some women are lucky, nay, BLESSED enough to go to a rack, grab one in their size and go on their merry way. For others, it’s more complicated….much more complicated.
There are tee shirt bras, sports bras, push up bras, minimizer bras, plain ones, embellished ones, 2 hook vs 3 hooks, foam/lace/soft cups…it’s enough to make you sit on the floor and decide to go back to undershirts (now called camisoles.)
Enter The Fitter. A bra fitter is an employee of the store who has received her degree in boobology; that’s to say she can take one look at you and immediately know what size you are without measuring. She’s part witch, part lecturer, as she will scold you for wearing the wrong bra size!
What?! I’ve always worn a 34B. “You should be wearing a 36B, that’s why they hurt!” (and you just know she’s mentally saying “stupid cow.”)
The Fitter returns with an armload of bras for you to try on. Dear Lord, I just need a nude color bra for every day wear.
Next, you are told HOW to put a bra on…seriously. You are supposed to lean over slightly so your breasts “settle” into the cups, then once in place, you gently “adjust.”
After you find one and learn how to lean and place, you look at the price tag….and hit the floor again. Sixty-five dollars??? For my boobs???
Now this sounds all fine and good, but when you’re racing around in the morning, making coffee; feeding children, husbands, pets; making lunches; getting dressed, applying makeup, etc., having time to let your boobs fall into place isn’t something many women have time for.
More proof that God is male.