Lately I have noticed that I’m uncomfortable. Straps are falling down. So are other things. You know what that means.
It’s time to buy some new holsters for the girls.
There is nothing more uncomfortable than a stretched out bra.
I don’t buy often but when I do I buy at least a half dozen. By the time I need them again, my favorite style is no longer made. It happens every time.
Last round I decided to go to a store that specializes in lingerie. They measure you and fit you. I thought it may be weird but what the heck.
First a little background on the girls – I don’t have a matched set. They were at one time — sort of — but a bout with cancer changed that. One is definitely smaller and has a bit of left rudder to it. The beloved husband assures me that men are made that way too so I am not to worry.
When I had the cancer treatments I was so grateful to be alive I didn’t care if they no longer matched. Being asymmetrical but alive is so much better than the alternative.
Back to the fitting room – A child of 12 came to measure me. Ok, she was probably older but not much. I was totally afraid of freaking her out. The girls don’t look odd just asymmetrical. The scar isn’t very noticeable at all.
I explained the deal to her and she didn’t flinch. Guess a lot of women, old and young, have mismatched girls. Some may even be missing one or both.
She did a standard measurement and suggested some sizes that I didn’t think would work. I am open though. Perhaps they would work.
They didn’t. I had six packs hanging on one of them and the other was just uncomfortable. The girls were unhappy. When they are unhappy, I am unhappy.
Do you fit for the big one or the smaller one? She averaged them out so the cup fit neither.
Eventually we figured out a size that would work. It wasn’t a huge surprise that it was the size I was wearing when I walked in. There were some suggestions like inserting a “cookie” in the small cup to make it the same size. Yeah, I can’t believe they call them cookies either.
I tried that once before. The damn thing fell out at the most inopportune time. It could be a conversation starter for sure. Talk about a wardrobe malfunction.
It probably needed to be in a bra pocket or connected to something. It was a gel thingy and it got hot and sweaty. The girls weren’t happy.
I could have one surgically implanted but after my surgery and treatment I don’t want anyone slicing there. I promised the girls no more trauma. Besides I look perfectly fine as long as I’m not naked and even then it’s not so bad.
This round I think I’ll just go and grab several different styles and a few sizes and see where we go. The girls will let me know when they are happy. When the girls are happy, the whole house is happy.