Monday, April 13, 2015

Can you throw them over your shoulder like a continental soldier?

This blog is about old lady boobs and bras.  If you have delicate sensibilities, you should move on.

I've never been for a bra fitting, because it involves having some young thing look at your sagging, aging torso.  My vanity just can't take it.  Yet, I knew my bra didn't fit, because years ago, I watched an Oprah show about bra fitting.

Last week I went out and bought a new bra, paying big bucks for it, because if you have a cup size larger than B, you need to pay big bucks for support.  If you know what I mean.

I decided I took a 44 H.  Yes, there is such a size.  It was a comfortable bra.

Saturday night, Charles and Erica came by and I put on a tunic I had ordered in the mail, thinking it was a slim look.  "Do I look fat in this?"  I asked.

Never ask that question.

What I really meant to ask and finally did was, do my hips look big?  Here's the thing: I don't have large hips, but I'm heavy topside. The tunic comes down over the large boobs and just hangs there over your buttocks, so that they look larger than they really are.

"It makes your butt look bigger than it is," Charles said.  I can rely on Charles to tell the truth.  And then he said, "Why are you hanging so low?"

A question for the ages.  Because I'm old like the old ladies in Emigration Ward whose breasts hung to their waists?  Why not just go out and buy a navy blue crepe dress with a lace collar and some lace-up Enna Jetticks?  Why not sleep with a plastic bag over my head tonight?

That night, I measured.  I was not 44 inches.  I was 38 inches. 

Over the weekend we bought a new power cord for the Ipad at the mall.  "Let's go look at bras," I said to Tom.  This is what every husband wants to do is shop for bras.  He found himself a chair in the lingerie department.

"I just bought a new bra and look how I sag," I said to Rachel at the counter.

"You need a fitting," she said.  I told her my measurement and the outrageous bra size I was wearing.

She went and got  a half dozen bras and took me to a dressing room.  "May I come in while you're changing?" she asks.  She is no older than 25.

"Are you kidding me?" I said.  "No, you may not watch me change. You are young and I am old.  I don't want to see you gagging at the sight of my body." I was wearing a jersey over a blouse over secret underwear over a bra.  No one was going to watch me take all of that off and put on a bra.

She leaves, but on the other side of the door, she says, "May I come in after you have the bra on?"

"Yes," I said.

The short of it is that Rachel fitted me into a 38 G.  But, people, I'm now a high rider.   I am ridiculously happy about this.  RIDICULOUSLY HAPPY.

I can't wait to show Charles.


  1. You have NO IDEA how much I love this post! I won't say my bra size in public because I am still traumatized by it myself, but lets just say I am on the larger size of you, and half your height. Basically, I am a short, big boob of a woman.
    I hate bra fittings too, but I love wearing a bra that actually fits. I am so happy my daughter opened a bra shop so at least I can keep the humiliation in the family.

  2. I know nothing about any of this.

  3. I told you that you were a G! You said, "Not even close!" Maybe I should get a job like Rachel!

  4. I hope it came in red. It's your color.

  5. This title is perfect. This blogpost is perfect.

  6. I'm dieing. I read the post from last week about Jill and the girls and your bra size. I thought, Oh, I can't wait for Jill to get back so I can tell her about my horrific bra shopping experience. PSA: Don't bring your 17 year old daughter bra shopping. It was mortifying being alone. Worse having young witnesses. My last bra died an unfortunate death and I had to admit to myself it was Time to shop for a bra that held 'em in without the need for sports bra cami on top. (And we won't even go into my weeks of swinging free after shoulder surgery.) Old lady boobs. I've arrived. This bra is so enormous it will require it's own suitcase. And probably not a carry on. On the positive I'm well supported, not showing the cold when I freeze on the piano bench in primary, and am comforted by the knowledge that even if I lose the battle this bra will survive combat, probably even nuclear holocaust. All for the bargain price of $55. These are the times I wish I was a drinker. I'd better text Jill for a lunch date.

  7. I agree with Jacqueline and hope you bought the red or even better, a black lacy bra. You know you can wear these under the secret garments now? We have a great shop here called SHE where they don't vomit or laugh and never flaunt their perky twenty somethings. My perfect fitting bra doesn't leave divets in my shoulders and I don't have to roll up the sagging girls like sausage wraps. I think every husband might want to sit in a lingerie department. Imagination is powerful.

  8. My problem is that I feel bra shops want your boobs to look bigger. I would like a bra that makes them look smaller. This is apparently not considered appropriate for a woman. So now I have my "boob" bra for when I want to wear boobs and my regular bra for when I don't.

    1. Tell them you want a "minimizer bra." We big girls don't don't want extra heft.

  9. I am so happy to read this post and the Replies. I am of the belief that most bra manufacturers are men: no clue, no clue at all. Any bra designer must also be male, or a female the size of perhaps 28 AA. Age 22. No children.

    I like Title Nine bras for any physical exertion: tennis, running, etc. I am a 3-barbell woman. (Haha! check it out!)