A couple of weeks ago I grabbed the wrong bra when I got dressed, and as a result spent my morning cleaning a house with at least one escape artist every time I leaned over. Cleaning=lots of leaning, by the way. And to think, I thought my life couldn't get any more glamorous! I texted a selection of folks about my issue, because who wouldn't be interested in that information? One person responded with high praises for sports bras. I questioned the uniboob feature figuring she had found a more flattering brand or strategy. Nope, she was basically just opting for comfort. I could support that!
The next day I outfitted myself in one of my oversized sports bras (a holdover from when I thought I might engage in something resembling a sport). While I was willing to admit that I sure was comfy, I also had to acknowledge the gapping spaces on the sides of myself. Ridiculous! The girl (at that point) and I deserved better. I hit the clearance rack at Target and hooked myself up with a swell neon green number. Comfort with a touch of pizazz for $11.88? How was I ever going to look at the usual $58.00 price tags again?
It was a short week to break us back in gently to that which is what we do around here. There was also snow making it look a lot like Christmas. I had no choice but to buy some gifts...for myself. I had to return two ill fitting wired devices that obviously lied about their dimensions. My friend was disappointed as she had scoured the Kohls clearance rack to find those undergarment options for me. Ever eager to help me in my quest for a reasonable fit, we set out to do a complete canvas of clearance, and any other, options at another local Target. They had even more swell colors! Bright pink and electric purple. I just needed to tame my enthusiasm with a reality check of how many unflatterring (yet comfortable) bras I should have to choose from each morning. I was teetering dangerously close to going all in with a sweatpants wardrobe to complete the look.
I tried to find something for an inactive gal, but was not in the right frame of mind to actually find a dressing room, only to suffer the usual angst. A good friend might point out when you are being an utter (udder?) boob, but will stand by and support you anyway...and maybe even take your picture...
Here are some other highlights from the bra department. I hope you are even half as amused (yet slightly confused) as I was!
These are just sort of soft shells, or helmets, for your gals to hide out in...also sticky. Is that like ripping a band- aid off?
And if I did manage to hoist things up where they belong (OK, now I have the song, Up Where We Belong, stuck in my head!), would I then need to hide the result? A chemise dickie? A chickie?
Does it double as a hankie if you get desperate? A chankie then , I guess? See where it says you can transform an outfit? Nighttime is for cleavage!
End result...1 return, 2 keepers (both with actual straps)