I am about to let you in on a little secret.
Something about me.
Something very few people know.
I HATE BRAS.
Seriously. Those damn 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. And until now I’ve been happy. Why fix what’s not broken?
Franticdaddy has a special name for my bras.
It’s either “tit-smashers” or “passion-killers”….. Can’t ‘member which.
I guess you could say he’s not impressed with my lingerie selections.
BUT like I say, I’ve been perfectly happy. Well, until recently anyway. Suddenly, I’ve noticed something.
It’s My Girls. You know…The Twins, Helga and Olga. Mysteriously, they 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?)
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?????!!!
YET. It still can/will happen.
So what’s left?
To blog about it of course.
Hmmmmm…..Title. I need a good title for this post.
“Showdown at the Double C’s”?
“Decent into Ta-ta Tortureville”?
“A Tale of Two Titties”??
“Chaos at Boulder Holder”?
“50 Shades of Grey Bra?”
“Hark the Harried Hooter Sings”?
“Inadequate Boobage: Part Deux”?
OK peeps. Do me a solid.
Can anybody direct me to a brand of bra that doesn’t feel like a torture device?
If you can, you’ll be my new BFF (breast friend forever).