My mom is not small boobed, but she won't do underwires. Not quite sure why.
I need some new bras. I have two that I am ok with, but I don't own anything I would call my OTB. I had a fitting a few years ago where the gal told me I was a B cup. That messed me up for a long time. I had always worn a D and couldn't figure how I would be so off. I never did find a B cup that worked, so I figured she was on crack. Not long ago, Nicole dragged me to Norstroms for a fitting and I found my current DDD's which make the girls much happier.
I can't image not doing underwires. Even just for lounging around the house non-underwires feel non-bra'ed. (Bra or no bra is my gauge for whether it actually counts as having gotten dressed or if I still am technically in pjs, inside pants or no.)
I'm with ya brenda. Once the bra is off, I'm HOME. not going anywhere.
What I do need to find is a good sports bra. The one I have is OLD and doesn't really do the job. It also gives me a uniboob.
(Bra or no bra is my gauge for whether it actually counts as having gotten dressed or if I still am technically in pjs, inside pants or no.)
Likewise. Although I admit I do sometimes, in Winter months when i'm wearing lots of layers, walk the dog while still braless.
Once the bra is off, I'm HOME. not going anywhere.
I'll go to the grocery store or similar errand w/o a bra, as long as I'm wearing a t-shirt with a loose sweater/fleece pullover/sweatshirt over it.
What I do need to find is a good sports bra. The one I have is OLD and doesn't really do the job. It also gives me a uniboob.
I accept the uniboob when I'm wearing a sports bra. As long as the bra keeps my parts in place, I don't really care if I have uniboob while I'm exercising.
I'm a big fan of the underwire (40 D). My mom was also against them, and she was as large boobed as I am. She mentioned something about a higher likelihood of lightning strikes to women wearing underwire bras, which strikes me as unlikely, to say the least.
I consider underwires a near-absolute necessity, but I used to have some vintage late-50s/early-60s bullet bras that were miracles of wireless engineering--some lovely combination of good straps and stretch lace and nice wide back-support pieces made them as comfy and lift-and-separate supportive as anything I've ever worn. Sadly, I'm now one cup size too large for them, but oh how I miss them.
Latest Matilda conversation (earlier this morning, as I was sitting reading Bitches with her cuddled in my lap):
Matilda: Mommy don't have a 'gina [vagina].
Me: Really? I'm pretty sure Mommy does have one.
Matilda, solemnly: No. Tilda have it.
I'm still unsure whether she meant it in a "Got your nose!" sort of way or whether she thinks there's some sort of one-to-a-household rule and that since she knows for a fact she has hers, clearly I'm going without.
JZ, that is hillarious.
I seem to recall CJ telling me, around that same age, that I had a penis, but was just hiding it.
I seem to recall CJ telling me, around that same age, that I had a penis, but was just hiding it.
This is the kind of stuff that sent Freud off on such a wrong track.
