Last week I was out and about doing my thing and I could feel this poking underneath one of my breasts. I get home and inspect only to realize that the wire in my bra had cracked in half. I pictured something like this…
Little guy finally gave up and caved under the mammary pressure.
So I sigh in defeat and throw out one of the two functional bras I own. Sad times. Now, I know you’re asking yourself, “TWO?”. Yes, two. I know it sounds absolutely asinine to own so little.
In my venting the sadness of said wire explosion on Facebook, I came to a realization: I hate bra shopping with an unholy passion and I am not alone.
A) I have big boobs – duh
B) I have a wide back
Because of these two things and a serving of side-boob, bra shopping is defeating and awful.
So in an attempt to replace the broken boulder holder, I do what I need to do and set forth to bra shopping hell: Victorias Secret
I walk in and I am greeted by this atrocity….
Not sure when the 80’s came back but it was a goddamn puddle of neon vomit. Who wears this shit? For one, lace looks terrible under t-shirts and a color that bright would strike through anything so unless you’re a go-go dancer, stripper or hooker, this serves me no purpose whatsoever. I like a good “fuck me” undergarment just as much as the next girl but pink that bright would not only blind him but kill his erection instantaneously. Josh is very particular about the visual stimuli.
Then another problem… Everything has padding, some so obscenely padded that it takes up half the cup. Why would I, size D, want my tits to look bigger than they already are? I don’t need help and I also don’t believe in false advertising. Can’t a girl just find a simple, black little number that lifts and separates? Is that too much to ask?
So there I am, among a sea of neon, padded, ill fitting bras… Surrounded by posters of Miranda Kerr or whoever their güera flaca of the moment is, both of which could probably fit their entire body in one of my pant legs. You see where this is going? Defeat.
The sales girl encourages me to shop online. LMAO. Why do companies do this? The larger sizes are available “online only”. Dude! Us girls with the thickness are the one that need to try shit on the most! And so I’m relegated to buy and try on a bunch in hopes that one fits? Right. Who has that kind of money and time? Even when they do have my sizes I usually grab 10 to try on and if I’m lucky, one will feel good. One! And then I grab another 2 in the same style cause I just won’t torture myself into hoping I’ll find another “cute” style.
There are plenty of lingerie manufacturers that make sizes to accommodate the brick houses of the world but one look and you would rather wear a sports bra. Lacey grandma bras that make your tits look like pointy missile gazongas. So damned if you do and damned if you don’t.
I’m sure someone out there is shaking her head saying “oh boo hoo, look at this chick crying over big boobs” and you know what I have to say to you? F U. Big tits are overrated as fuck. Yes, you can use them to get out of speeding tickets, getting the bartender’s attention and they lend themselves for motorboating and hot dogging. On the flip side of that coin they also hurt, my back hurts and they will inevitably serve as pencil holders as they make their way south. How chicks run out and voluntarily get gigantic, globulous implants is beyond my comprehension.
Thankfully I happened to discover that lohemans does exist in the armpit of America and I found a saucy, comfy and black little number by Natori. And for half off! Thank you Natori for delivering where everywhere else failed. And yes, I only found ONE. Go figure.