Ok, so I had my Professional Bra fitting the other day and purchased 3 new bras that were Professionally fitted for my gigantic honkers. Yes, they were very expensive but they put things in the proper place so handing over my Amex wasn't that difficult and I headed home all hap-hap-happy that I *finally* have some good, well-engineered bras that *seemed* to be comfortable in the dressing room.
The Good News is, I look great! These bras are a marvel of engineering. They lift and support and are actually pretty for something so...so HUGE. The Bad News? I hate these new bras. Hate. Them. Wearing a bra in the dressing room for 1 minute does not give you an indication of how they will feel when you wear them going about your business all day. The underwire turned into a painful vice, the edges of the cups are digging into my underarms, the boning on the sides digs into both my side and my arm right at a nerve so my arms keep going numb, the stitching feels like it was sewn with fishing line and I swear there is sandpaper on the band. They are so flipping uncomfortable after wearing them for an hour that I want to scream.
Unfortunately, in a fit of optimism, I tossed all my old bras as soon as I got home with the new bras so I'm kind of screwed.
So I will have to continue in my quest for proper and COMFORTABLE support for the F-Troops, as TheManTheMyth now refers to me and my boobs.
And they say romance is dead.
Oh, yesterday we, my sister Bippy and I, took Thing 2 shopping for bras and despite the hilarity that ensued and had people outside the dressing rooms laughing when we came out, I promised her that I would not blog about it so I'm not. Besides, you really had to be there.
And speaking of Big Boobs and Celebrity Sightings, I saw retired porn star Jenna Jameson while we were shopping. I wanted to smack that bitch down. Why, you ask? I'll tell you why. Girlfriend is tiny. She made Thing 2 (5'6, 95lbs) look like an Amazon. And she recently gave birth to twins. THAT'S why I wanted to bust her ass. And I have no idea why I'm talking like I'm straight outta Compton. Must be that torture device I'm wearing that's affecting my brain.