In a Sea of Unnecessary Lingerie
Inspiring clothing items have the potential to ignite my day. My running sneakers, certain socks and even some of my underwear have so much pop of color that they help me dive into my days with extraordinary gusto. Otherwise, I basically wear the same clothes every day. As you can see, the bar is low.
Some people need sexy underwear to get themselves or their partner into a sexual frame of mind. Sex opportunities for my husband and me are pretty simple. There is no time or energy for strumping around in tantalizing attire. Sleep is scarce and work is aplenty in our house. I am absurdly practical. A chaffing label can send me over the edge, therefore silky, frilly, unsupportive, steamy lingerie will not enhance my day or jumpstart my libido. Bras are not where I go to add zing to my life. I am always on the hunt for an industrial-strength every-day bra that I won’t notice and does its work silently.
Purchasing bras these days is complicated because there are too many choices. Many bras seem to be designed for silicone breasts or for women who want their boobs extending out of their necks. Many bras push it all up even though many of us aren’t actually seeking perky, gravity-defying breasts. In fact, I like a bra that balances a natural, droopy heft while also being supportive.
On a recent bra shopping adventure, I tried on several of the most functional bras I could find. The first seemingly harmless bra covered everything, however, it served up so much cleavage that if I reached up to remove snow off the roof of the car, my breast would definitely flop out. The next bra served up the Jane Russell torpedo shape with straps that were so thin they would blow apart if I extended my activity beyond sitting mindfully. I seek bras that will stay with me when I chase my dog. One of the bra options enhanced the fat packets under my arms creating pit tits.
The problem with being a chatty, over-friendly shopper is that the salespeople get fired up to show you everything and get a little aggressive with their suggestions. The saleswoman brought me one of the “most popular” bra options. This rig had multiple straps across my back and the top of my boobs as well as under the arms creating a flesh colander. I looked like a down coat with distinct cells containing meaty flesh. Few women could avoid the pit-tit enhancing foolishness of this bra.
The final bra felt like a miracle in that it provided comfortable containment. It fit in a way that promised to keep my day moving and productive with my breasts existing in their most manageable and low-maintenance spirit. I knew the Universe had aligned when I read the name of the bra: Triumph. Sold!!