We can send a man to the moon. We can cure polio. We can invent the Internet, You-Tube, iPhones and iPads. But no one in this entire world seems capable of creating The Perfect Bra. By “perfect,” I mean “comfortable.”
Men have no idea. They have no idea at all of what we women must endure to harness our little fillies so they don’t go flopping around in the world, embarrassing not only themselves, but us. It’s absolutely horrible. I know few women who don’t long for that moment in the day when they can come home and shed their current instrument of torture. Oh, and I can just hear the men now, “Why do you need bras at all? Go without! It’s okay with us!”
We need them for all sorts of reasons. Some women have breasts so large that, unrestrained, they either head for their feet or else spread out halfway around their sides. This is not pretty in clothes. We need to corral those little ponies so that they stay where they’re supposed to appear on the front of the body. Some, like me, need one to keep my nipples (or, as my baby sister called them, “nibblets,”) from poking someone’s eye out. Yeah, I know, it sounds good, but nobody likes men talking to their nipples rather than them!
So we go bra shopping, trying on one style after another until we find one that might, just might, feel good. We buy it. We might even buy two. So far, so good. When we get home, we try it on again and feel like this time we might have actually found a good one. We didn’t. By 3:00 p.m. the next day it’s either riding up, riding down, cutting into our shoulders, too tight, too loose or scratchy or all these things at once. It’s so sad. I have a drawer in my dresser that contains, oh, maybe 20 bras that tried and failed. I call it my Dead Bra Drawer.
My friend, Francie, and I were talking about this the other day and she told me she has the exact same problems I do. Even her favorite bra is not totally comfortable, but she does what we all do. She makes do. So, she suggested that I look into this problem for my blog. “You could do a study,” she said, “research the subject and find us the perfect bra!” So, being the sucker that we all know I am, I told her I’d look into it.
The problem is that on the Internet there are hundreds of bra manufacturers that will tell you they have the perfect bra. And you can also find hundreds of women who will tell you why that particular bra is killing them. We’re not dummies. The one universal fact seems to be that 90% of women are wearing the wrong size bra. It is recommended that you be measured professionally. Well, I actually did that at Macy’s. I let some strange women with a tape measure take my dimensions and measure the girls. She recommended a size and I bought three bras in that very size. I remember them well. I was determined to make them work until I got so sick of trying to “adjust” them that I finally tore one off in a fit of frustration. Fortunately I was home at the time. Unfortunately, I was out in the front yard. (Kidding!) Those three bras now reside in the Dead Bra Drawer.
After Francie’s challenge, I also found a number of bra calculators on the Internet. Here in the privacy of your own home, you could take measurements, plug them into the calculators and hit “Find My Size.” I tried four different ones and got four different sizes…different band sizes and different cup sizes. I kid you not. How can that be? It’s a conspiracy!
I was in Kohl’s not long ago and decided to give it another try. File that under “Glutton for Punishment.” I took five different styles of bras and sizes into the dressing room and began the ordeal. With each bra, I adjusted the straps, fixed the band so it wasn’t too tight or too loose and organized the girls so they were snug in their cups. Then I raised my arms and stretched this way and that. I think the problem is that you can’t simulate what it will feel like after five or six hours. Nonetheless, I finally picked the best of the lot and took it home. At home I tried it on again. It was good. The next day I wore it. After five or six hours it was bad. Just like the others. I kept trying to wear it. I even tried it again on different days, to no avail. It has since joined the other losers in the Dead Bra Drawer.
So what to do? I honestly don’t know. Wait until some brilliant woman inventor gets a clue and creates the Perfect Bra? Meanwhile I shall keep the hunt going and let you know if I find the prize.
But if I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath.
Star, Simplified 