I went to one of those fancy bra shopping places. You know the kind? They feel you up, comment on the size and shape of your boobs then leave you alone in your 5×5 cell – naked and afraid. They get paid to do this instead of being institutionalized. I’m surprised more men don’t apply to work there?
Anyway, after I was felt up by my new cell mate bestie, she informs me I am a D-Cup or maybe even an E.
Something is fishy and I am still wearing my panties so I know that isn’t it.
I have always been a B. I am comfortable buying B’s. I told people I was a B. Now I am a motherfucking D! Mental note, I have to reword the Christmas cards.
So what do I do with this piece of information? I buy a gigantic bag of D’s and E’s and throw out my B’s of course. I can’t be seen in a B for crying out loud. I’m a D!
Now if I tabulate the cost of said trip it would be as follows:
- Cost of bras – $800. I know, but I couldn’t be seen in B’s anymore and I needed several everyday bras, a black bra, a racer-back bra and a couple of pretty bras. And, I have to return every quarter to do it all again because I am sure I am still growing.
- Cost of the bras I threw out – $12. I have been wearing some pretty scary shit.
- Cost of parking while buying bras – $24. It is not lost on me that the cost of parking was more than the former bra collection.
- Cost of the special wash, wash bags and the gizmo I hang the damn things to dry on (AKA the treadmill) – $1,306
- Total cost – $2,142
- Cost in hair lost when my husband found out: -$7.
I swear that my boobs look bigger ever since I left the store. My posture got better because I have to stick those babies out on display. My sisters now get in my way and I am sure that I detect lower back pain. Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown out those B’s after all. I might need them after my reduction to heal my aching back. I suppose wine will help ease the pain in the meantime.
But then I started thinking… always dangerous. What if the marketing gurus at all the bra manufacturers started talking? Let’s suppose they put a consortium together on bra sizing and decided to increase the cup size of women unilaterally. So all women who were currently A’s became C’s and B’s became, you guessed it, D’s. Women feel better about themselves then want to buy themselves something pretty to celebrate. Cue bra shopping!
Right now, I am going to remove my bra so that I can wipe up the table with those babies and let them roam free. Then I will take an Advil with my wine for that aching back. Trust me though, I will get to the top bottom of this before my next shopping trip!
{This ‘Best of Blunt Moms’ post was first published in October 2014}