**Disclaimer** Today's post is quite possibly the strangest I have written to date and may be considered ridiculous by most of you. But please read my Monday morning craziness, won't you?!
Ladies, ladies, ladies... my world is forever changed. So listen up while I share my new found freedom with y'all & hear me when I say, that I have been lifted up and now properly supported. I pranced into Nordstrom's the other day with a problem. Along with weight loss and a child comes what I like to call "droopy boobie syndrome". My previous droopy boobie situation makes me hang my head in wrong size bra shame, but now I have been enlightened and I encourage you all to take a stand on behalf of your 2 best gals and start to put them where they deserve-up top baby (insert Dolly Parton joke here)! This is where some of you will think I’ve done lost my marbles and click away to some other blog with more normal substance. But I assure you, I feel the need to share my bra fitting experience with all of you because I think too many women are hesitant to ask for help & worried about the process.Let's just say my fun bags haven't been so fun lately, more like deflated balloons...so here is how I fixed that.
Step one is to admit that there is a problem. So I walked into Nordstrom’s with my head held high (since my girls weren't) and I said something along these lines-true story. “Hi. I need to be fitted for a bra. And I am looking for my boobies to be lifted and pushed together…you know like the newest Hollywood "It" couple. I want them inseparable.” The lady looked at me and cracked up. It was the perfect icebreaker before getting to some serious boobie business.
Step two is to get topless and face the wall. I know that sounds like a really bad episode of cops or a really great spring break, but I assure you it wasn’t quite that exciting and there was no hangover the next day.
Step three involves a quick measure with measuring tape and a few brief thoughts. Here is how mine went…. "shouldn't I have asked her name” followed by, “I normally expect dinner first”. But that’s because I am quite inappropriate and I was trying not to concentrate on my “boobies to the wall” situation. But it was super quick and painless.
Step four was simply waiting for her to go get some bras in my new measurements, which I was then able to try on by myself. With each new bra I tried on, I began to hum 'I will survive' just a little bit louder. I loved that the only cost I incurred was the cost of the actual bra. I did feel, however, like I ought to leave a tip on the nightstand or at least ask for a cigarette after, but I chose to get out of there and flaunt my new rack instead. Yes, I said that too...but C’mon they were up high and standing proud.
It really was a life changing experience and I don't know why more women don't talk about it and go get measured. I say we dare to be different and stand up for our right
to party to be comfortable and go get properly fitted for a piece of clothing we wear every single day. It really wasn't that scary and I even lived to tell about it. But I must say if you were a fly on the wall of that changing room you would have laughed at me or the least giggled a little. So tell me....have you ever been fitted or am I the only one who needed this sort of "pick me up"?