My boobs and I have always had a very complicated relationship.
Saving aside the bittersweet reality of happy fun pillows combined with scary mystery bumps that require frequent medical squashing, there can be — how shall we say — too much of a good thing.
My husband would of course disagree.
Somewhere along the highway of middle age, my torso has decided it no longer wants anything to do with bras. Whenever I put one on — even bras that used to work fine — the band now starts to roll and creates this terrible situation where a snippet of skin is trapped and then the rubbing starts. It probably doesn’t help that all of my bras are basically designed to hold up the entirety of Cleveland so they are constructed out of what is essentially high tension power cables. So I now have this abrasion where the bra band likes to chew into my body — which of course gets worse every time I put on a bra. And as it heals it seems to be forming a skin shaped channel that wants to host a twisted bra strap so damned bad. Please! It puts the bra strap in the gulley of fat and old age!
The alternative, of course, is not wearing a bra. My job is remote — I work from home. However, I also teleconference a great deal. No matter what I do, the camera eliminates all doubt about whether or not I’m wearing supportive undergarments as are fitting a lady of a certain age.
I’ve tried new bras. I’ve tried old bras that used to fit. I’ve tried sports anti-chafing lubes. The only things that work for sure is jamming a giant towel down there to hold the strap in place so that it doesn’t roll into a death knot or going all Woodstock with my unmentionables.
I’m pretty much hoping corsets come back in style for people who aren’t goths or Dita Von Teese. The worst part? I’m pretty sure this is because my skin has lost elasticity because of all the oldness I’ve collected. Until someone fixes that, I will just keep abreast of the situation, I suppose. Or finally invent a better bra.
So, basically, in the next two months, you’ll either see a link to my Kickstarter or I will continue my course of failing at being an adult woman.
It’s Holidailies time! I usually am about as successful at Holidailies as I am at wearing a bra for more than four hours, but eh, what the hell, I just knocked out 50K words for NaNoWriMo, I can certainly update my blog more frequently in December, eh? Or, you know, try at least? We’ll see.
6 Comments
I am trying, too. I think I remember how to do the online journaling thing. Whether I will actually do it all month is unclear; I’ve surprised myself a lot the last several months not doing things I thought I would.
Bras are evil. That’s my assessment. I’m… gifted… in the breast department, and finding pretty, comfortable bras is almost impossible. Why on earth do they think women who bust out of most blouses need extra padding?
(Thankfully, I also work from home. And I NEVER teleconference. Well, I do, but audio only.)
I feel your pain, and I would totally throw my money at that Kickstarter.
Oh, I understand. Completely. I once wrote a blog entry called “Buying a bra is not a spectator sport” I have yet to find a bra that really fits and whenever i can go without. Fortunately I’m home a lot. And in the winter there are sweatshirts!
I don’t know why it’s so hard to find a dang bra that fits. I hate wires. I hate itchy lace. I hate molded foam cups. They tell me I’m a 32E. I suppose that’s why.
Apparently, today is busty girl bra related post day. Saw this on Imgur about 15 minutes after I read your post.
http://imgur.com/gallery/NElEVtl