Almost as bad as shopping for a bathing suit, I went shopping for a bra. Since surgery, I have not been able to wear my old bras. The lines hit right on my scar - irritating to say the least.
I took my daughters into the dressing room after many minutes of staring at the large and varied selection. What happened to bras without underwire?
I found several to try on and with my daughters murmuring encouraging words began the humiliating process. The first was too tight. The second was too loose. The third felt strange. And so it went. Finally, I found the right bra. Megan thought is was too plain. Tightly whitey plain. I didn't care if it had purple polka dots. It felt good.
I am reminded of how hard it is too find a good bra. The straps slip; dig into your shoulders; underwire digs into your sternum; front clip unsnaps; pop out cup in big meeting; snaps undue in back and so on. It's a wonder we make it through the day. Or burned our bras in protest. Who designs these things?