always be honest, except for when you lie

Thursday, November 11, 2004

the undergarment obsession, chapter two

I bought more 98 cent panties the other day and it brought to mind the issue of the 98 cent bra. Bras tend to be both strangulating and spendy which upsets me on both points. Having boobs of a certain (ahem) size negates letting the girls go commando unless knee length milkers are what you're going for. And as I am not and do find myself in the size bracket that I speak of, I am forced to spend Husband's hard earned money on Boobalah Restraining Devices of varying cost, color and appeal.

Some guys like boobs, bras and the eventual undoing of a bra which is totally fine. I get that. But I have yet to find anything even remotely comfortble as far as bras go. Unless you count my old nursing bras. They've been worn to death and display more of a tshirt consistency. A big old stretched out nasty tshirt.

Hang on men. Don't leave me just yet. It's going to turn out well, I promise.

I've never seen a 98 cent bra and I suspect I wouldn't buy one if I did. There is something undeniably special about bras that just isn't true for panties. I mean, look where panties go. They cover bums and even the nicest bum is just a bum and while the other part up front serves a lovely other than bathroom purpose there's still no denying that my panties see more toilets than they do man bits so I insist that they be comfortable. But bras, oh wretched bras, if they don't fit right your teets end up looking flatter than they are, smaller than they are, pointier than they are, far less cleavaged than they could if only, if only. And every girl wants to look her best in that new angora sweater so that (fill in name) will ask her to dance at the Christmas sock hop. I confess to having just such a concern myself.

So bras remain in the upper echelons of price point as faar as under things go which will do for now. But I swear to you, if this writing thing doesn't pan out I'm going to start my own bra business and sell the suckers for 98 cents at the grocery superstore. Because I know what it's like to buy yet another friggin' bra that's like tying oneself up with a garden hose and a little bit of lace. And that just isn't worth thirty bucks.