Boobalicious

Okay, ladies, let's face it - we have breasts. We have breasts of all different shapes and sizes, breasts of different colors, breasts of different weights, breasts of different religions, maybe. Our breasts might be bi-partisan, one swinging to the left while the other swings to the right. Our breasts might salute the sun or tuck into our pants. Our breasts might bounce and jiggle or they might just hang on for dear life. They may be parts of our daily routine or, for some women, may be a part of our past. Regardless of their status, the fact remains that, as women breasts area part of our lives.

So, why do we treat them so badly? Why do we try to squish them into holders that are too small and are beggin' for mercy? Why do we let them hang out in big cups that are too big for them - some sort of isolation treatment?? Why do we let them sag down low or duck tape them to our chins? WHY DO WE ABUSE OUR BUST?

85% of all women are wearing the wrong sized bra. That most likely means you, and you, and you, too, are wearing some ill fitting contraption day after day and wondering why in the world you are cursed with a freaky chest. Why do they sag? Why do my clothes not fit? Why does my back hurt? Have I really gained so much weight as to warrant the dreaded back fat? Do they really have to disappear like a spin off of that oh so famous Seinfeld episode about shrinkage?

Ladies, please join me in the following chant: hate the bra, love the boob.

I had a life changing experience today and I'd like to invite you all to step into the light right along with me. I went to a specialty shop and got custom fitted for the perfect bra. Yes indeedy. Victoria's Secret is wonderful for buying something sexy and even supportive, but what they know about properly fitting a bra could fit into an AA cup. The last properly fitting bra I owned I got when I was 17 years old. Since then, I have spent several years going braless (tell your daughters that it WILL catch up with them,) then had 2 babies and spent about 4 years breastfeeding, and then lost about 38 pounds. That's a lot of in and out and stretch and shrink and push and pull for my mammaries. I found myself just a few months shy of my 30th birthday and not having a single bra that fit and no real certain idea where to get a bra that would.

I entered the shop tentatively. Would I be felt up by an 80 year old woman with drawn on eyebrows? Would there be nothing for me to choose from but mastectomy garments? WHAT IN THE HELL WOULD I BE SEEING??

What I saw was my eyebrows raising and raising again as I tried on no less than 40, that's right - FORTY, brassieres. I had a personal fitter, someone who ran around and found a billion different bras in different colors, shapes, styles, and sizes. She answered questions and when I was on the fence about one or another style, she made the call. "Nope, too small." "Nope, too big." "Heh heh heh, yeah, that one is not going to do it." And, when they worked well, she said so. Hell, she didn't need to say so - it was obvious. As it turns out, I wasn't so far off on my guessing as to my size. Where I did go wrong was thinking that what I found in Target was "close enough" to my size. Ladies, repeat after me: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS CLOSE ENOUGH. That's like saying, "Yeah, I didn't have an orgasm, but it was close enough." Uh huh.

I found 2 styles that worked so well, it was like stepping out into the light after years of imprisonment. I even wore one of them out of the shop, throwing the price tag over the fitting room door and singing out, "Maxine, this one isn't coming off of me without dinner and a foot massage, so go ahead and ring it up!" I left that store feeling alive and feminine and loving, absolutely loving, my beautiful bodacious ta-tas. I looked 5 years younger, 10 pounds lighter, and sweet sake, my back feels amazing.

Friends, let me tell you - my girls are dancing today. They are dancing and dancing and I swear to Elvis and Kim Cattrel, my girls are never going to sit with the wallflowers ever again. I swear, it changed my life - and it can change yours, too. GO right now. If you're at work, fake sick. If you cannot fake sick, pretend I died and be so aggrieved (as you certainly would be, if it were true) that you must take the rest of the day off. Then go straight to your specialty lingerie store - one that also fits for mastectomy patients, 'cause I'm telling you, they know breasts and bras and they won't let you walk out with an ill fit. Get yourself fitted, get yourself a new over the shoulder boulder holder, and then go get yourself a Mojito. You've earned it.

Local ladies, check your inboxes in the next few days. I'll be hosting a "Bras, Boobs, and Booze" evening in the near future (did I mention I got lots of coupons to share with my friends?) We'll go out, all of us will get custom fitted (cause let's face it, everyone needs it) and you can get some fabulous tit slings of your very own, and we'll follow it all up with lovely cocktails with which to toast our newfound beautiful bazooms.

Love your breasts, ladies, but love yourself first and treat yourself to something that fits. It'll lift more than you think, I promise.

I'm off to go run around in my new black lace magic bra 'cause it's so pretty and it's Thursday - B is home!! ;-D