‘Mother’ she said, ‘you do realize that that….flesh-colored thing you are wearing is doing nothing that most females require their bras to do…?’ And yes, I did. But there is only so much time to be vain in one day and if it’s my brassiere that sags a little and barely covers and completely fails at protecting the world from my nipples, then so be it. At least I have matching socks on. Oh. No? Well, I’m wearing pants.
But then she took me to the store, leading me by the hand through aisles of underwear and lingerie, which I almost didn’t recognize, so long it’s been since my eyes laid on them, and wondered who the people are who manage to wear plum and ecru flimsy, dressy things while I can barely seem to find my shoes.
She stopped short in front of a wall filled, nay, teeming with breast restrictors of all types. I immediately felt overwhelmed. We left and she had to live with her disappointment.
A few days later, my husband said, ‘Oh, dear. That really is the saddest bra I’ve ever seen. Is it doing anything at all for you besides making your breasts look like sagging, deflated balloons? Why don’t you wear a different one?’ I looked in the mirror and realized that truly, 2 years is a long time for a bra. It had lived a good life. I thanked it and deposited it into the nearest rubbish bin. However, by some strange life predicament, it was the only bra that I had. So, now I had none.
Later that day, my husband and I went to the store and looked at all those bras together. I took fifteen or so into the dressing room and I’m happy to say that when we walked out, I had a total of 4 breast restriction devices in a bag. Never has a woman been so blessed. I was rich with brassieres! I felt a heady sensation and looked at every person we passed with a slight air of superiority because, really, not one of them was walking home with one pink, one off-white, one rose with white polka dots and a darling amount of white trim around the edges and one dangerous and racy dark red number with a steamy black overlay made of black mesh.
‘Really?’ my daughter exclaims after I tell her the good news. ‘Well, why don’t you look any different?’ she asks, examining my mid section. ‘I can still totally see your nipples.’ ‘Oh.’ I replied. ‘I’m not actually wearing one today.’ ‘You mean, you’re totally braless?’ ‘Um, yes. But I combed my hair!’ Her eyes told the story of an old woman that had sailed the sea of a thousand storms and seen vast disappointment. She sighed and said, ‘Well, if saggy boobs are what you want, then who am I to try and change you?’
The next morning, truly repentant, I wore one and have been every day ever since. I still don’t do my makeup every day or shave my legs on a regular basis. But at least the world is saved from my nipples. I only have so much time per day to be vain.
Santa brought me a gift certificate for bras. Seems my husband was tired of seeing sag. The first time I wore one of the new bras, a friend thought I had gone under the knife for enhancement.
I took a real chance last year and finally caved and bought myself bras. ON EBAY. That’s risk! Well the bras came with matching panties. 6 sets of gorgeous bras and panties. When the package came, I opened it in awe of the beauty of these things. Well the bras were great, and I wear them all the time. But my ass won’t fit into those teeny tiny panties and they sit sadly in the back of my underwear drawer, pouting. One day. Maybe.
oh and p.s. you are beautiful!
oh – bra envy – i long for the day I can go into the lingerie section of a department store and buy pretty bras with matching knickers. but unless i go to specialised plus size boob stores and pay a fortune, i’m left with my nose pressed gainst the window. and for some reason they discourage that . .
um, so if that’s you without makeup i’m jealous! but i don’t wear makeup or shave my legs regularly either. not enough time in the day for all that jazz.
target bras are the bestest, by the way. i must get some new ones myself.
Your post totally reminded me to go to Nordstrom soon and get fitted for a new bra. So, um, thanks.
haha, i’m 23 and i don’t reguarly wear makeup or shave my legs. some days i think that’s sad, and i should get up earlier and take pride in these things, but most i just say eff it, who cares, i’d like 20 more minutes of dreams please.
buying bras is hard, i commend you. many of my friends can go braless and/or buy cute bras, and for cheap even, at any store! and it really sucks when you have to save up to buy a bra that will fit you and look non-orthopedic aka, old-lady-ish. *sigh*
stupid boobs.
I am so happy to hear your story! I am so HAPPY to not be alone. I am guilty, very guilty of not wearing bras. I had lung surgery 4 years ago which left a large scar above and somewhat on my right breast, near the sternum. Since that surgery bras are totally uncomfortable. I have not found one that I can wear for an entire day.
I wear a bra for special occasions, like other women wear certain shoes. Instead I layer clothes and can never simply wear a t-shirt. I sit smothering in my coat, my husband asks why I don’t take it off but he should know the answer by now, whispered, “I’m not wearing a bra.”
On occasions I do wear a bra it ends up under the seat in the car because the second we are done with our obligation I am ripping it off. It just feels so confining. I cannot find one that fits right and is comfortable. Instead if it fits me around then I flop below. If I get it a little tighter I can’t expand my lungs fully. 🙂
As for make-up, well I just bought all new because it had been so long since I wore any. Shaving legs? Nah, I love braiding it.
Oh, I have known my grandma to cover nipples with bandaids in lieu of wearing a bra. you could give it a shot.
Leah, you’re so pretty. I love a lady with freckles. :]
I can’t imagine going one minute without a bra. It gives me the chills just thinking about it. They hurt too much. I hate my boobs.
I should stop before I give way too much information away on your comments section.
The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.
NO ONE notices when I go without a bra. My pre-teen daughter is better endowed than I.
I can wear a wife beater for an undergarment and feel fully clothed.
Sigh.
i too have a problem/love affair with bras. if only i could afford to be fitted for one. i have heard tell that is the way to go for bra’s. one day, i will go off the deep end and do it for myself.
i felt happy when i got to the section in which you and joe went together so he could help you in the procurement of new bras for you. that’s a keeper-kind-of-husband right there.
beautiful photo of yourself there, looking a little like liz taylor in liz’s younger days me thinks.
Oh God I get emotionally attached to my old bras and can’t throw them away. I’m like, Bra! You stood by me and now I’m going to stand by you! Also, I think somehow they will come in handy. During the great bra shortage of 2010.
You have amazing eyes. And eyelashes!
I have new bra PTSD and it’s all because of the “professional fitter” over at Dillards. She actually called one of the bras an “over the shoulder boulder holder” and when she was telling me how to put one on (like I wouldn’t know) she kept referring to my boobs as “breast flesh.”
Freaked me the hell out.
I bought the bra and you wanna know why?
I’ve never owned a size 40 D bra in my life.
It’s a novelty, really, as it’s the smallest sized 40 D bra in the world.
All of my size 36 C’s are jealous.
That’s ’cause my 40 D (sounds like a bottle o’ beer, don’it?) gives me cleavage.
You’d think it would be the other way around.
It’s so funny how your daughter sounds like the mom in this post. “Well, who am I to change you…” LOL!
I have stopped trying to get my mom to wear a bra. She is dead-set against it, which makes me laugh because it’s just so her. I love this picture of you. Very cool earrings, too.
Who says we HAVE to wear a bra? And what’s wrong with seeing nipples? Everyone has them…they’re natural! Besides, I’ve seen plenty of men who, if anybody, should be wearing a bra…jiggly man-boobs, nipples, and all! Bras are a choice, and I chose to be free.