My Cup Runneth Over...
The other day, I happened to catch Oprah and she was doing a special show on bras and undergarments. (Male readers, I will not be offended if you skip this blog entry all together.) Her main point was to get across that about 75 percent of women are wearing the wrong bra size. In fact, according to her experts, having the right bra size can make you look 10-15 pounds lighter. Yes, I said 10 to 15 pounds! That claim is what caught my attention. Could THAT be some of my problems? Oh, let it be, dear Lord, let it be!
So, I let my son play playstation a little longer than I should (and paid the price later when he had a uber-meltdown). I sat on the edge of my seat and listened for that miraculous advice of how I'm wearing the wrong bra and that's the source of all my unhappiness with how I look in clothes. (insert a "yeah, right!" and a smirk here) They also had great advice on the right jeans to wear, except I don't know if I can get used to letting my crackage show in the hip-hugger style that will make my arse look oh so tiny.
Well, there wasn't anything earth-shattering on the bras, but the makeovers they did were enough to make me drive over to the mall and get measured by a professional, for the first time ever. I have a friend who had just done that and discovered after two kids that she's shrunk several sizes on top. (I told her it isn't the two kids, it is her awesome workout program to which she is so amazingly disciplined!) Some of my other friends were talking about the show, and many commented on how it seems women either shrink or get larger in the chest after having kids. One friend's theory is that if you were an A or B cup pre-kids, you will shrink. If you were a C or higher, you will get bigger.
Here is honesty time. I am not sharing my size, but truthfully, I don't want or need to get any bigger. Those who are flat-chested may think I sound like I am bragging, but I am not. Having a large chest can be just as bad as having none at all. It makes you look heavier all over, causes back-aches, and just gets in the darn way people! I am not a plastic surgery person, but the only one I might consider should I get any bigger might be the breast reduction. It just figures that the one procedure I'd consider having done just happens to be the most heinously gross and painful of the bunch.
So, after watching the show and seeing a girl with my build go from a size C cup to a size G, well I was a little frightened. I don't think my fragile ego and borderline unhealthy body image could take a shift up like that! (I said a little selfish prayer before going in to the store: "Lord, at least let me stay within the school grade scale range...and keep me from flunking out!")
So, tonight I went. And my findings were surprising to me actually. The biggest shock was that I wasn't really that off on what I was wearing. This is not necessarily a positive discovery though. Because, now I cannot blame my self-proclaimed, Jabba the Hut back-flab on anyone but my own darn self. It would have been so convenient and nice to put that on a piece of underwear and be done with it.
But, sigh, alas...it was not to be. So, I stocked up on some new over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders and got some new unsexy-but-practical Jockey's for her. My boobcicles will be happy and supported, and I guess that's all I can ask for in my life at this point. Now, if I could just find that magic miracle corset for my spare tire...
yours in self-deprecation,
Seriously Steph.
So, I let my son play playstation a little longer than I should (and paid the price later when he had a uber-meltdown). I sat on the edge of my seat and listened for that miraculous advice of how I'm wearing the wrong bra and that's the source of all my unhappiness with how I look in clothes. (insert a "yeah, right!" and a smirk here) They also had great advice on the right jeans to wear, except I don't know if I can get used to letting my crackage show in the hip-hugger style that will make my arse look oh so tiny.
Well, there wasn't anything earth-shattering on the bras, but the makeovers they did were enough to make me drive over to the mall and get measured by a professional, for the first time ever. I have a friend who had just done that and discovered after two kids that she's shrunk several sizes on top. (I told her it isn't the two kids, it is her awesome workout program to which she is so amazingly disciplined!) Some of my other friends were talking about the show, and many commented on how it seems women either shrink or get larger in the chest after having kids. One friend's theory is that if you were an A or B cup pre-kids, you will shrink. If you were a C or higher, you will get bigger.
Here is honesty time. I am not sharing my size, but truthfully, I don't want or need to get any bigger. Those who are flat-chested may think I sound like I am bragging, but I am not. Having a large chest can be just as bad as having none at all. It makes you look heavier all over, causes back-aches, and just gets in the darn way people! I am not a plastic surgery person, but the only one I might consider should I get any bigger might be the breast reduction. It just figures that the one procedure I'd consider having done just happens to be the most heinously gross and painful of the bunch.
So, after watching the show and seeing a girl with my build go from a size C cup to a size G, well I was a little frightened. I don't think my fragile ego and borderline unhealthy body image could take a shift up like that! (I said a little selfish prayer before going in to the store: "Lord, at least let me stay within the school grade scale range...and keep me from flunking out!")
So, tonight I went. And my findings were surprising to me actually. The biggest shock was that I wasn't really that off on what I was wearing. This is not necessarily a positive discovery though. Because, now I cannot blame my self-proclaimed, Jabba the Hut back-flab on anyone but my own darn self. It would have been so convenient and nice to put that on a piece of underwear and be done with it.
But, sigh, alas...it was not to be. So, I stocked up on some new over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders and got some new unsexy-but-practical Jockey's for her. My boobcicles will be happy and supported, and I guess that's all I can ask for in my life at this point. Now, if I could just find that magic miracle corset for my spare tire...
yours in self-deprecation,
Seriously Steph.
posted by Crazy MomCat @ 12:10 AM
2 Comments:
I'm so sorry that you didn't have more outstanding results at the "bra" store. I have had large weight gains and losses through out my life and alas everytime I lose I go down a whole cup size. I agree - no one wants to be too big, but when you aren't terribly blessed - a whole size is a lot. However it did make me look perkier (cough cough) to have the right size.
You're a great writer. I look forward to reading more! (and thanks for the compliments on my pictures - that's about the best thing you can say to me)
Thanks, Carol! I've been enjoying your blog as well. Take care!
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