I’ve lost my main bra. I don’t know where it is. I’ve looked high and low. This is my basic, nude colored go-to bra. I believe (and hope) most women are like me (or this particular post is going to be especially embarrassing) and really only have 2 or 3 bras that are in the regular rotation. There’s the main one- mine happens to be nude, which by the way is kind of racist, just like band aids and so on- but we’ll save that for another time; and two black ones (and they’re actually black- not African American- just wanted to clarify in case my former statement confused you). Yes, we all own probably 10 or more, but for one reason or another they do not make the cut for everyday wear. Some are for special occasions- they push up so they can fill out one particular outfit- that you wore somewhere to impress someone who really doesn’t matter and therefore spent a fortune on a bra you’re never going to wear again; or they’re too small because you bought them 20 years ago and are denial that your boobs have actually grown with age or they’re lacy and pretty and you thought your husband/boyfriend/”lover” (I hate that term- it sounds so, yuck- ugh- I don’t even want to think about it) would find it sexy- but honestly its way too itchy. Or its a nursing bra and your kids are practically in college- but you still hold on to them just in case of an emergency- you know- a breast feeding emergency- because those happen all the time. Or they’re strapless. Holy Mary, heaven on high, how I hate strapless bras!! If you’re wearing a strapless bra, you’re probably attending an event where alcohol is present and by the end of the evening you’re having such a good time that that so called bra is now a belt and your boobs are just bouncing around to the delight of every drunk old man in sight.
This may be shocking to men (not married men- they are definitely in on the secret)- but stupid, clueless men (wait- isn’t that all of them?- um- excluding my husband of course- sorry honey- but, well… you know) who think women are walking around like Victoria’s Secret models- or the Sears catalog models for that matter, with matching panties and bras for each day of the week. What fools they are. What they don’t know, is that those sweet melons they’ve been eying are actually being held up (most of the time) with a pilly, graying, worn out bra. One of the under wires is probably bent or broken- but these bitches are expensive- so unless the under wire is about to puncture something- that bitch is staying in the line up.
As I type this, I’m starting to feel a bit of dread. Maybe I am the only woman who wears the same 3 bras day in and day out? Maybe everyone else is walking around in matching bras and panties? Fuck, this is why I haven’t written in my blog for a while- I felt I was sharing too much. But, you know what, who the hell cares. I can’t imagine I’m the only one with this particular, shall we say, quirk. I have a “lingerie” (and I use the term loosely) drawer that is jam packed full of Lord knows what- because it certainly isn’t anything I wear on a regular basis. It’s mostly some ugly holiday socks an old aunt thought I would just “love”. I’m not 6 years old. I do not wear Christmas, Halloween, Valentines or any other holiday themed socks. That is unless I’m going to bed and my feet are cold OR I’m wearing tall boots that cover them up and all my other socks are dirty- because laundry is a major pain in the ass.
No, the “lingerie” drawer contains my go-to panties shoved right in the front. And my go to bras? Those 3 sisters live on my bedroom doorknob- where God intended. Except my nude-colored one right now!! I’m really starting to panic- there should be a hotline you can call for times like these- a lost bra crisis center. Someone to talk you off the ledge and tell you its okay- that that beloved ugly ass bra will resurface- probably in your daughter’s dress up box, or in the dog house or under the bed with a thousand dust bunnies. I really should stop typing and look for it- because I’m limiting myself to dark shirts for the rest of my life without it- or until I can save up the 50 billion dollars it costs to buy a new one. But, then I’ll have to stand and look and….well, that’s just exhausting. It’s much easier to just sit here and write about it. Nah…when its ready, it will show up.
Bras are really a thing of mystery for men and women alike. Its only been in the past couple of years that I realized what a difference having a properly fitting bra makes. It truly does do wonders for your figure. So here’s a little inside tip for all you ladies- if you think you’re a B- you’re a C, if you think you’re a C- you’re a D, if you think you’re a D…well you better get yourself over to Penney’s where they have little old ladies who’ve been through some kind of highly classified government bra-fitting training program and will be able to properly size up your giant boobs into a triple F or whatever gargantuan size they are. Speaking of mountainous boobs, every time I do go bra shopping, I feel like the only bras available are either an A cup (why even bother) or some mammoth size I didn’t even know they made. Where are all the ones in between??
On the subject of A cups, I remember reading in Seventeen magazine- when I was 13 or so- because honestly, no 17 year-olds are reading that shit, that if you’re not sure if you should wear a bra or not than you should take the pencil test. Again- who is “not sure”? If you even have to ask that question- then just do us all a favor and put one on for the safety of everyone around you. If you’re not familiar with the test it goes as follows: take said pencil, rest it under your boob, if it falls down- you can go braless, if you can hold the pencil with just your boob- you better bind those suckers up stat- and don’t forget to take the pencil out first. (I know you’re all going to try it right after you read this- its okay- I’ve done it, and yes, I can hold a pencil). Personally, I want to know who, when and where this test was developed? Has the Tea Party investigated to see if any of my hard earned tax dollars were going to research such nonsense? Probably not- humph. And another thing, has anyone ever tried writing with the pencil while its being held up by their boob? Now that, my friend, would be a true talent- far better than any of the shitty flute playing, clogging, cart wheeling, baton twirling crapola you see in the Miss America pageant.
So, on a side note, because you know, I never like to get off topic….I just looked up bra in the thesaurus. Not Roget’s actual book- but you know the one on the next tab over on my browser. For you youngin’s we used to have this here thang called a book. It had two hard things on each side we called the covers, and a whole heap of papers in ‘tween we called pages that had writin’ all over ’em. Some old man named Roget (pronounced ro-shay not ra-jit) knew a whole mess a words that meant the same thang as other words and he done wrote ’em in this here book. It was sorta like Webster’s Dictionary- which you pro’bly never done heard of neither- and so why the hell am I even tryin’ to learn you….and why do I feel the need to describe it like someone from the heels? (that’s hills for the rest of you). Okay- I just like talking in funny accents and writing is just me writing down how I’m talking inside my head- yes I’m crazy. Anyhoo, let’s get off that off topic topic and back to the off topic topic I was on….do you remember what it was? I looked up bra in the thesaurus. And here are some of the words it suggested: undergarment, underpants (really- I think that’s the wrong end), undershirt (okay- I’ll allow it), and my personal favorites: boxers, briefs, BVDs, drawers and loincloth. What the fuck?
Alright, now I’ve got to get back to looking for my main bra. I’ve written about it, I’ve prayed about it, alright, not really- but I just wrote about praying about it so that’s sort of the same thing. Being a good Catholic girl, I think I’ll go dig a hole and bury a statue of St. Anthony the Patron Saint of lost things upside down in the yard. You non-Catholics are all shaking your heads right now- but I’m telling you, thousands of years of superstitious, rituals can’t be wrong- I mean if it didn’t work why do the nuns at the Catholic bookstore sell so many St. Anthony statues? I know, you didn’t even know that they sold them or that burying them upside down would help, did you? Well now you’ve learned two new things today: women wear the same bras all the time and nuns sell statues of St. Anthony. You’re welcome.