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I am about to let you in on a little secret.
Something about me.
Something very few people know..
I HATE BRAS.
Not like a “kinda hate”…I’m talking full-blown-LOATHING.
Seriously. Those dang things are the bane of my existence.
No, I don’t “free-boob it”… I do wear something.
Sports Bras to be exact. They have been incredibly comfortable, somewhat supportive, and my fav for YEARS.
So… I’m happy…my “girls” are happy…..why fix what’s not broken?
Maybe it’s social pressure. Maybe it’s dissension in the household.
Hubs has a special name for my bras. It’s either “t*t-smashers” or “passion-killers”….. I can’t ‘member which.
BUT like I say, I’ve been perfectly happy. I am all about comfort. If I could go to work in my jammies, I’d be a happy girl. BUT recently I’ve noticed something.
It’s My Girls. You know…The Twins…Helga and Olga? They mysteriously seem to be headin south. Some where towards the vicinity of my belt loops. It’s been downright perplexing.
And since I don’t what to be ‘tucking them in” with my shirts in a few years, I figured I better take action. So I bought a Bra. A snazzy little Clearance Rack Number from Wally-World (hey, why invest a chunk of change if I’m gonna hate the damn thing, right?)
To me, it looked alot like THIS….
Does a matching suit-of-armour come with these things? It screamed “itchy!!!” It wreaked of Tug And Squirm.
But I bought it anyway, took it home, and put it on.
I lasted two hours.
Dear LORD people! How do you STAND these things?????!!! Are they supposed to feel like… THIS????? I gritted my teeth and dug down deep. I kept the itchy,binding, always-slipping-strap-thing on and suffered. It sucked. But I resisted the urge to rip it off and run through my place of employment shrieking, “I’m free! I am FREEEEEEEEE!” Just barely though.
I even valiantly tried to keep it on once I got home. Hubs asked why I was so crabby. The kids steered clear. I squirmed and chaffed, determined to get $10.95 worth of wear our of this effin thing.
Finally, I could take no more. Off it came. Out came the favorite Sports Bra my hubby affectionately (NOT) calls The Grey Goose. My Harness Bra now sits in a drawer neglected. Ahhhhhhhhh.
So be it. Victoria Secret will never be my BFF. I’ve committed myself to having to rig up some sort of t*t sling when I am 80.
How do you people wear those damn things????