The Three Bra Rule

Do you know what I did this morning?

I spent some time on me.

Yes, yes, I know - its always all about me, but this time I actually involved external forces.

I got my hair cut.

For you to understand the shock this entails, I must point out that I have long hair. This is because I shaved my head in 1995 (mid-December, to be exact - it was so darned hot!) and then decided to see how long I could go without cutting it. Of course, I have had trims since then (it would be really messy and long if not). 8 of them. I know that is falling well behind the recommended every 6 week rule, but you know, easier to spend the sheckels on everything but the girl - well, this girl anyway.

So instead of just a trim, I actually got a "style". Yeah, woo hoo me!

Then, I decided to check out some clothes. Because once you get the boulder rolling and all...

I had been given a card that entitled me to $20 towards goods to a variety of shops, and across the way from the hairdressers was Big Letter, one of the shops validating the gift card.

At first I browsed the clearance racks. Well, unfortunately I fall in the size range that is not avaiable on such racks. There was a pair of leggings that may suit 'Salina, though, so I slung them into the basket.

Then I decided to go through the "Ladies Fashion" section. The irony was there was nothing fashionable there AT ALL. Honestly, I live near a regional centre, and the style this decade is "maternity" - even when not so labelled. Is this happening in the rest of the world?

Every darned garment was designed to hid any waistline - great if you are a stick and therefore the drop from neck (or empire line) to hem flows, but if you have a bit of a bosom or some hips, the drop occurs miles from or too near to parts of your actual body and creates an effect that is the opposite of flattering.

I valiantly went from rack to rack, shelf to shelf, wanting so desparately to get me SOMETHING. Finally I found they had V-neck tee-shirts in a colour I didn't mind and decided that the ransom they were asking was actually nearly acceptable. There was also a cutish dress that looked as if it had intentions to show a little of the hourglass - into the basket they went also.

Then I moved to the lingerie department. Now, I did mention the possibility that I might be one of those with a bosom. I do - to use the vernacular, I have melons. Not watermelons, granted (thank goodness), more rockmelons - rockmelons that have served their natural purpose, so the rock is possibly a misnomer. Honeydews? Pawpaws?

Anyway, as any woman with such appendages know, you need to have something supportive to get you through the day, and you need to have something strong to last longer than a week. Have you seen what is on offer these days?

Now, I have a three bra rule - or rather, the universe has applied a three bra rule to me. Ever since I can remember, I have only ever had three working bras, because no matter how often you buy a new bra, and old one falls over immediately. To get around this rule of late (for the last mumble 2 months years), I have avoided buying any new ones. Heck, it has worked so well that I currently have four working bras - as one that had been deemed unacceptable now fits the benchmark for the new acceptable. However, given the age and state of decay of those four bras AND given the fact that a new bra brings joy and delight to the wearer, I was venturing forth to cause mayhem in the bra draw.

I chose three sturdy bras on special to try on, and as I could only take four things in, the dress came also. The first one laughed at me and advised that, really, that smaller number that I used to think I could fit really doesn't do what it should do in the back region (ie do up) let alone mount the melons admirably. The second and third were of the larger number - the second puckered and said "saggy boobs = smaller cups, sucker", while the third (same size, same brand) said "these cups overfloweth". The dress screeched "pregnant" as well as "potato sack", so I went back out with a little of my enthusiasm sucked out of me.

But I was determined. No longer would I contemplate the lower priced or on-sale undergarments, I would look instead towards brands I had found love with in the past and try to achieve a little aim. Back into the dressing room I went with three more bras and the tee-shirt. The first would have been well and good - if I didn't move and start the bounce factor occuring. The second said "rise up" not only to my melons, but also to their underwire (and yes, I did try and adjust straps to stop that happening - which still said it to the underwire but not to the fruit). The third squished and gave a neat cleavage - somewhere near my neckline, and the wrinkles there didn't look as if they needed the competition in the dressing room mirror. The tee-shirt was a scoop rather than a vee and looked - wrinkled and ordinary, which is what it is meant to hide and flatter, not highlight.

I was so disgusted with the shop, I even threw the sale item that I had considered for 'Salina back on the rack and left in high dudgeon.

Oh, I did seriously contemplate a sidetrack as I strode through the foodcourt on the way to my car and find some satisfaction in deep-fried self-esteem, but it looked old and tasteless.

I was all set to roar home and drown my sorrows in the garden, when I remembered some very pertinent points. I had to get a bra. Honestly, the four I have are no longer really embracing the concept of support. It is a case of when they are going to give up the ghost, and they fire warning shots at inopportune moments of their rapidly approaching demise.

There are two establishments in this regional centre that still have the old-fashioned "bra fitters" employed. There is nothing like the memory of your teenage years and the swish back of your dressing-room curtain to a duck braying (I know, mixed metaphors) "and how is that one - still puckering up?" to revisit the horrors that such shops can bring. Of course, for only an arm and a leg, you can then get a well-corseted and entirely flattering (if fully clothed) bosom - but its a tightrope in anticipation.

Luckily, I was saved by the low fuel gauge and the memory that the shoes 'Salina wore to school are now too small and have a large inability to save the feet from water, therefore I would need to detour to another centre and fix both problems.

At this centre, there is a Letter-Mart. And what a refreshing (for once) change offered there - they had a sale! With real savings!! On clothes I would consider wearing!!! And they had bras for melons fuller figures with a decent percentage figure off!!!! And we (with such melons fuller figures) know that a decent percentage leads to a very decent reduction in the exorbitant pricing.

As well as an adequate bra (yes, I will still have to visit the other establishments for anything truly satisfying) I got two shirts - that made like I might have a figure - and the second shirt was half of half of the markdown price at the cash register.

Oh joyous me.

So I will be bounding (but not bouncing) to work tomorrow morning. Well, right after I unravel the latest tuck shop saga...