Saturday, May 15, 2010

Boob Relocation Awareness (BRA)

As I walked through the threshold of the big-chain lingerie store, I swear the model on the giant window poster looked sideways at me, like a portrait in some haunted mansion.

“I can shop here--I’m a WOMAN damn-it!”  I thought. 

But as I rounded the corner, images of “REAL” women made me feel like “Androgynous Pat.”  Clearly, I am a “She-Wolf” compared to the specimens attacking me visually from every angle.  I appear to have the same anatomical parts, but mine look like someone stepped on them and yanked them down like a window shade.

I don’t think I’ve ever even met a person who could qualify as a “Bra and Panty” model.  They must live on “Fantasy Island” somewhere.  I wonder what they do all day, in between modeling assignments.  They all have that “not-exactly-happy-but-I-could-be-soon” looks on their faces.   My daughter, Krista, once asked, “Why aren’t they smiling?” “They’re hungry, dear,” I told her, “and cold.”

“Do you have anything that will fit me?”  I dared to ask a skinny clerk.  All I wanted was something new to wear instead of my husband’s t-shirt and pajama pants.  Now I think I may be in the wrong shop.  “Is there such a store as “Bertha’s Secret”?” I clowned.

“Well, you could try the clearance rack,” she offered, stiffly.  The clearance rack is where they send freaks like me, to scrounge around for factory misfits.  I can hear it now...

“Hey, let’s get all the material together and make a HUGE one--big enough to fit Ying-Ling the Panda-Woman,” they’d joke in some far-eastern sewing room... after an especially long shift. 

I picked up something and held it next to me.  It was a MIGHTY bra that looked like something Wonder Woman would wear, minus the gold-encrusted eagle.  It stood up all by itself on the dressing room chair, challenging me to strap it on like a Roman chest plate.  It was red and ridiculous, but it fit and buying it would mean I could carry that smutty lingerie bag all through the mall.

“I’ll take it,” I beamed, “and wear it home.”  As I left the store, the poster model’s eyes again shifted sideways, but I pulled my shoulders back, my new “rack” in front of me--where it belonged--for the first time in 25 years.  I’ve never felt more alluring.

My self-worth improvement was not without consequence, however, as my new chest-enhancing, molded-foam apparatus made me unbalanced.  My body radar askew, I kept bumping into things like a wind-up toy that runs into walls and changes directions.  With things pushed tightly together, my air supply was being compromised, dizzy, I brushed up against things and I couldn’t see my lap at lunch.

“You look different,” my husband, Fred, said later that day, “are you getting taller?”
 
I flashed him a “not-exactly-happy-but-I-could-be” expression, and he guessed again.

11 comments:

straightfromhelle said...

Funny!! I can totally relate. I might have to break my boycott of that store and check out that bra...last time I was in there, they didn't even have my size! LOL

gail Kent said...

Love it, Heidi! At least you have something to put into those things!

rachel said...

Very funny - and brave.

I go for fittings, when my bras reach the point of no return, to good old safe John Lewis where a ferocious Polish woman with an I've-seen-it-all-before expression wrenches and hoicks me into something resembling plain white upholstery. Then my Alexander teacher lectures me on the posture-wrecking effect of tight bras and undoes all the Polish woman's good work. I am SO sorry for laughing at poor old Miss L at school who grew up and remained bra-less all her life, with disastrous consequences and a vivid illustration of the power of gravity.....

Heidi said...

Gail--the thing about those bras is you don't need ANYTHING to put in them--they are their own entity.

Joanne said...

I bought a Wonder bra, to wear with a V-neck dress that I had bought, because I have nothing to put in a bra. I wore it to my son's house for dinner on Easter. None of my family would look at me! Everytime I talked to them they would look at the floor. Finally my son (father of 4 girls)walked into a room where everyone was chatting and broke the ice by saying..."What are we all talking about? Mom's new boobs?" I put a sweat shirt on for the rest of the evening!

Janet Johnson said...

Great story! I really HATE bra shopping. All you can do is have a sense of humor about it. :)

Tahereh said...

LOOOOL

YOU ARE TOO FUNNY!!

i loved this!!

Dawn said...

Stinkin' funny' ! Be careful, Heidi...you'll shoot your eye out with those things!

Von said...

Haaaa Haaaa Hope you've got your balance now and started to feel glamourously alluring.
I too had the misfortune to have to go hunting for something to truss myself into on the occassions I'm not in a flannie.Not a lot of choice but what there was was designed by a big girl, marketed by a big girl, looks ok and is reasonably comfortable once you get used to that holding your breath feeling.And I couldn't believe the matching big girl pants!!!

Carrie Burtt said...

Love it!!! A story that many of us could tell, and relate to. Thank you! :-)

Doan said...

I love this story! It was too funny!