Monday, July 28, 2008

From molehills to mountains and back again

After listening to Angela/Fluid Pudding's Community Keynote contribution at a certain, ahem, conference, I got it in my brain that I should get my boobies hooked up with some nice bra action. (There! You can't click away now because you know I'll be talking about boobies.)

We don't have Victoria's Secret in Canada, and while they've bought up La Senza, we have yet to see the merchandise transfer over. (La Senza's quality is sub-par compared to VS.)

I had an email from my best friend with her VS request. She had recently been measured by an old Greek lady in an upscale store and was rather excited (much like Angela) about her new cup size running overeth. She tries to downplay it, because I, on the other hand, have not had the same blessing by the mammary fairies as my BFF. Apparently my two children have sucked every ounce of fat and bounciness out of my formerly-small-but-fantastically-perfect breasts.

What I am left with is reminiscent of a deflated balloon. No more like a deflated whoopee cushion. Well, somewhere in between anyway. I was tired of staring at the space in my bra cups. My bazoomies needed help. So sometime before Dooce and Stephanie Klein did their keynote thingy, I ran out to VS.

Holy mother of overwhelming. How does one decide? I sped through quickly, eyeballing scanty panties and frilly things. I considered them. Then I remembered the drawer full of French lingerie I have that goes unused. They no longer even make it out for the 30 seconds of value they offer before being thrown to the ground. Life's not like that around here anymore. Pass.

Armed with the detailed list my BFF had sent, I approached a cute mini Irish girl and she kindly directed me to the appropriate purchases: Wireless Ipex bra in 34D, black and nude and the Very Sexy bra in 34D, black and warm nude. The Very Sexy had a bit of gel-padding, but looked seamless enough to be practical under a t-shirt, so I grabbed those two practical colours in my size as well. 36A. Though my boobs have completely changed shape over the years, the only thing that's changed in my bra size is the width (from 34 to 36).

I got to the changeroom and the attendant looked at the stack I was carrying. "Oooh, are those for you?" she asked skeptically, looking at the D-cups that were big enough to wear as hats. "Um, no," I gulped, "They're for my friend. We don't have these in Canada."

"Do you want me to measure you?"

"Uh, sure?" She quickly did a rough measurement over my clothes and announced, "You're either a 34B or a 36A." Then she handed me a box of bras in various styles to try on.

She had handed me the 34A box though, so nothing fit right. Thankfully I had those two Very Sexys to try on and they were awesomeness. The gel pushed up the sag and I finally looked like a had juicy tangerines again.

I was in a rush to see Dooce speak, so it didn't really occur to me that my BFF would not want a bra that had padding or push up action. I had vaguely asked if these bras were right according to the notes I had, but it had not dawned on me that there might be more than one type of Very Sexy bra.

I wore my new bra on my first day back. I felt a bit like Sophia Loren. I kept adjusting myself and saying, "Wow! I am busting out of this thing!" Then I called my BFF.

Me: "Dude, that was a cruel exercise. Sending me to buy your giant boob holsters while I hopefully spilled what I have left into an A cup."

BFF: "Uh, yeah, it's not as awesome as you think."

Me: "Why would you even want a push up gel bra then? I got the same one as you and I'm feeling very voluptuous over here. You, my friend, are going to look like Pam Anderson and will have to beat your Manimal husband off with a taser."

BFF: "Um, I so didn't order anything with underwire or padding."

Me: "Oh fuck, I must have got you the wrong bra. Damn. And I asked like 25 times."

BFF: (audibly rolling her eyes) "Sure you did. How much do I owe you?"

Me: "Let me check the bill... Dude, your bras cost a whopping $3 more than mine. For the same bra! How insulting."

BFF: "Well, I guess I gotta pay more for all that extra fabric."

Me: (Distracted. Flipping through Elevate Magazine for good plastic surgeons.) Uh... well sorry for the mix up. I guess we're going to HAVE to go back to the States to remedy the situation."

So it looks like I'll be heading cross the border again soon. This time I am only buying shoes, or laptop bags, or other accessory whose size does not make me feel fat or flat.

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