Back off my boobs!

First of all: much love and gratitude for the fabulous woman who invited me to Town Shop, and who had an entirely different experience there. I trust she will forgive me this rant.

The saga of finding the right bra size is something all women are familiar with. Up until a month ago, my favorite bra in the world was actually gifted to me by selfsame Fabulous Woman mentioned above--it didn't fit her right (and I didn't have high hopes since she is, shall we say, bodacious, and a C-cup, whilst I wore a B). However, said bra is bright red and lacy, and doesn't work very well under the cottony white tops I intend on wearing this Spring. (Guy disagrees, but he is overruled).

The only bra that did work with these tops is known as The Torture Chamber. It is very flattering, and flesh-colored, but it is horrifically uncomfortable. After a particularly long and maddening day (what is with bra straps? They're supposed to stay on your shoulders! That is their purpose in life! And let me state from experience that it is impossible to pull up your bra strap at all surreptitiously), I marched into Victoria's Secret and started trying on C-cups. After all, the lacy red bra, while impractical, was the most comfortable bra I owned. And lo and behold, I found The Secret Embrace. I'm a C-cup! Who knew?

There are some issues with The Secret Embrace (Warning: Product Review). A) The name. Yikes. B) Victoria's Secret, it seems, is incapable of making unpadded bras. So, um, I can't quite fit some of my tighter shirts. And the cleavage is a little excessive. C) It's made out of some alien material. I'm practically wearing body armor.

However, it is incredibly comfortable! The straps never even consider falling down, there is no jiggling, bouncing, nothing. I am support-o-girl.

So. Inspired by this success, I went on a Girls' Night Out-type adventure to Town Shop (you know, that place on the Upper West Side famous for having scary ladies eye your breasts, tsk tsk, and voila! Present you with The Perfect Bra.) I figured I could find a bra equally comfortable, while perhaps less, er, booby.

I am whisked into the dressing room, where a youngish Russian girl--not at all scary-looking, I might add--asks me to remove my shirt. I do so. She checks the label on my bra--"Victoria's Secret, yes? I know the bra, very nice. And you are a 34-C." All good so far. But then it's like she remembers where she works and what their shtick is. "Hmm," she says, eyeing me closely. "No, you are a D." I just recently discovered I was a C, and now I'm a D? I don't think I could possibly have grown two cup sizes in a month. But hey, she's the expert. She runs off to fetch me a bra.

First of all, I don't come anywhere close to filling the D-cup. I do a little bouncing, and there's no support. She comes back, and says "Ah yes. Perfect." I respond: "Um, well, do you have anything with a little more support?" She sighs and tsks as though I'm a stubborn customer who doesn't know what's good for my breasts, but she comes back with another bra. Which has support, but really weird support--it pushes my breasts up and out by my armpits. This is neither comfortable nor attractive. I try the other bra on again, and shrug. I glance at the price-tag. $65!! It also pinches my armpits a little, and there isn't any support, but I came to buy a bra and this fits the bill. However, as I'm getting dressed, I put the Secret Embrace on again. Heaven!! I'm not buying any freaking uncomfortable $65 bra! Humph!

And so--the lesson to be learned here, ladies, is that no one knows your breasts better than you, including so-called "professionals."

Song:You Don't Make It Easy, Babe, Josh Ritter

Breast Quote:
Cordelia: I kinda have filled out even more.
Fred: And I apparently ain't gonna.
(Angel)