Have you had a boob job he said to me?
I shot a look at my cousin and then his wife with a WTF look on my face?
She shrugged and played dumb but the truth he is would have needed some prompting. What? he said when I shot him the look. Well have you she piped up there it was and she then asked.
What? he said when I shot him the look. Well have you she piped up there it was and she then asked.
Well, have you she squeaked. I smiled to myself because there it was.
No I said I have not although I wouldn’t mind one I said and she rolled her eyes.
‘The girls’ are not what they use to be. I use to have a wonderful relationship with them. I liked them and they were played with ahem…a lot. Then they became feeding instruments and well they haven’t been looked at, touched or taken care of the same way since. Now they are hidden in the back of the cupboard like a toy that a child no longer wants. They are now dressed in beige, white or black whereas before in their prime it was the prettiest lace with a matching pant; the price was no obstacles for my girls. I loved a lingerie store like Kym Kardashian likes Botox.
Then they became feeding instruments and well they haven’t been looked at, touched or taken care of the same way since. Now they are hidden in the back of the cupboard like a toy that a child no longer wants. They are now dressed in beige, white or black whereas before in their prime it was the prettiest lace with a matching pant; the price was no obstacles for my girls. Spoilt were they.
When they finished being a feeding instrument they had lost their shine somewhat. The lost their perkiness and so did I. Shopping for bra’s and all things pretty became a ‘chore’ especially with an extra six legs attached to mine. So naturally, after I finished feeding I just went back to using the same bras I had. Pulled them out of my cupboard threw them on and thought nothing of it. They did meaning the bra did the job or so I thought because even though I tug, tucked and pulled it didn’t occur to me they may not being doing the job.
Then last week I saw a women with strange mutation of four breasts. Not two but four because thanks to Oprah I knew she was committing the ultimate atrocity that is the wrong sized bra and her bits flowed out the top of her ill fitting bra. She looked a mess despite being dressed nice, effort having been made her top let her down. I saw her in the reflection of the double doors as we head into a city shopping centre. I turned around to look at this lady who clearly had four breasts the quad bouncing around under her slightly fitted singlet. She wasn’t there; of course she wasn’t because it was me. I looked down and sure enough I had mutated I had four breasts. I was that women I use to snigger at; yes it’s true I did but that was then when I was young and knew everything.
So of course being that women I once sniggered at I head straight not to Target (my usual haunt for the two bras for $25.00..bargain.. my favourite since becoming a mum long gone are the days of spending $40, $50, $60 on one bra yes you can buy so much with that. Christ that’s a set of swimming lessons for the kids) but to a proper lingerie store one with an old woman who wore a cardigan, a tape measure and practical well fitting bra. I walked in and we need not speak. She ushered me into a cubicle. There was no need for words my front quad boob displayed my dilemma.
Busily she measured my under bust or my rib cage for the band size and then the she measured across my breast at the fullest point for the cup measurement. Now unusually I stripped off but if you have a bra on and one that doesn’t flatten your breast it’s okay to leave it on whilst being measured but me I perhaps prematurely undressed in my fluster which was met with an awkward silence as she finger tipped measured me; embarrassing but the point is I got measured. Not that I was standing partially naked in front of a stranger in a shopping centre where all that separated me from the other fully clothed shoppers was a ill fitting curtain. With brings us to that other world mystery; what is it with that, ill fitting curtains in change rooms?
Now if you can’t bring yourself to get measured by a professional for whatever reason get yourself a tape measure and do yourself a favour and fit yourself or have your husband help. I am sure he want mind. Head here for some help on how to measure correctly and here if you aren’t quite sure why you have four breasts instead of two. So my cardigan lady fitter took my measurements wrote them down and walked away. She returned with a beige number (beige? what is the go with that) it was huge, massive I said are you sure pulling the same face my four year old pulls when I put a bowl of garlic cabbage in front of him. Yes dear pop it on she said in the same voice I tell my four year old to eat it. When you do lean forward and fall into it she instructed (which is how you put a bra on- lean forward and fall into; your breast not your body you could damage yourself otherwise and then stand up) I made some sarcastic remark to myself that after three kids there is no popping it on. It’s lifting and pouring into the cup but still I did as she said and lifted and poured into what I was sure was the wrong size.
Of course Murphy law says I am wrong because I thought I was right and I am in fact bigger than I thought which means I was wearing the wrong bra which meant it did not fit properly. Which means depending on which bra I was wearing was either flat chested, had back fat or the horrid quad breast. I was mutated now wonder I felt a little blah. So now that I have the right bra like Oprah has exclaimed it has rocked my world. And it does indeed look like I have had a bit of help. It also means they look shiny and new again and well that’s never a bad thing. No one wants to be the toy that is at the back of the cupboard that no one wants to play with. Now I’m walking a little taller, my chest is out of course it is I have a $45 bra on I’m showing it off I paid $45.00 for it but I know I look good. I have a waist again and just two breasts. I feel good because I fit right and because I fit right I have fought the guilt and brought myself new intimates. This also means my underwear matches and never underestimates how much matching knickers can make you feel.
However I still shop at target I cannot resist a bargain two for $25.00 come on who can go past that but I have tried them on each of them and all the different styles because they all fit different. But I have brought myself some pretty ones from the grown up ladies shop because I wanted to; its that simple. So next time you don’t have an extra set of legs attached to yours get fitted. Who knows wearing the right bra and you could re find an old toy and change how you feel about yourself all in one go.
Have you been professionally fitted? Did you go up or down? And what’s your thoughts on how matching bra and knickers make you feel.
xx Deb
