copyright © 2002 H.B. McGrew

Bras, Instruments of the Devil

H. B. McGrew

Shopping isn’t really something I enjoy. It is more exercise and companionship that brings me to a mall. If I am not shopping with a friend, I run from store to store armed with a list and only a little patience. Browsing for me is spending 15 minutes versus 5 looking at random items (and this is only in computer stores — my biggest weakness for I am Queen of the Geeks).

Stacy needed to run errands and had to drop off her car at a mechanic. I offered to drive her around. I could use some female bonding disguised as holiday shopping. Since Avery was with us, the goal was to get him to help Stacy with some gift ideas for her son. It should have been fun.

And was until I saw Fredrick’s of Hollywood and remembered that I really needed to buy a couple of bras.

Breasts and the bras that harness them — a major source of upset in my little world. But I was determined. This time would be different. This time I would be able to just quickly run into the store and come out with bras in the right color with the right fit.

My little trip to fantasyland lasted until I tried on the first bra.

Sure, Frederick’s had bras that fit. If I wanted the added bonus of being able to lick the top of my breasts without straining my neck. Shakes head. Honestly, I just could not imagine who would want a bra like that. Then I thought about it. Smack forehead as if the answer suddenly appeared. Implants. Damn them. Screwed up my chances of ever getting a normal bra again! I, of course, felt I should share my dismay with anyone who would listen. "Not all women with big tits are artificially enhanced!" Some of us, I thought to myself, lived with the humiliation of being a 34D by age 13. Size 3 with enormous bodacious tatas. The kids calling you "tits on a stick." Some of us have been attempting to hide them for years with little success. Some of us haven’t been able to go braless in public since age 10. Grrrrr. And grrrrr again.

I stomped out of there, fuming in outrage. Stacy meekly suggested we try Victoria’s Secret. "They may have what you are looking for," she said and then cringed awaiting my wrath.

Okay. Sure. Hadn’t thought of that.

Renewed resolve. I was not as happy as I had been but I refused to be defeated by a bra. Shakes fist in the air. You hear that? I shall overcome!

Or so I thought.

The clerk was helpful and sympathetic to my plight. She understood what I was going through. After inquiring my size — 36DD to 38D — she went through the entire inventory of Victoria’s Secret and found 12 bras that were one or the other size.

Bra after bra. Searching for the bigger size for some. The smaller one for others.

20 minutes later I emerged with…only 2 bras. 2 out of 12.

Wrongly I had thought I had a chance against the evil that is known as a bra. But their mere numbers and varieties won the battle. And quite possibly the war. Victoria’s Secret is perhaps that bras are always made for the other girl.

I am going to get a petition started. I am going to talk to Hanes, Fruit of the Loom, BVD. Men need to experience cup sizes and underwire. Imagine that. Size really does matter.

As God as my witness, I’ll never go bra shopping again.

Really.

"Bras, Instruments of the Devil" IS COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL AND MAY NOT BE DOWNLOADED, TRANSMITTED, PRINTED OR PERFORMED WITHOUT THE EXPRESS PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR

"Bras, Instruments of the Devil" debuted August 21, 2002, performed by Tabitha Lee.

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