Friday, February 15, 2008

I Have Seen the Promised Land

Well, dear readers, I believe I have solved my bra dilemma. Last night, after attending a canvassing training for my man, Barack, I stopped by Dillard's armed with recommendations from you. I marched right in there and amassed a huge, staggering armload of bras, sizes 34 C and 34D (thanks to Danielle). On the way into the dressing room, I passed the pinnacle of bras, the Le Mystere. They held a place of status by the cashier, back lit by well positioned lights and hung in an alcove trimmed in gold-leaf. They looked, well, a little industrial, but since both you and the bra authority on high, Oprah, recommended them, I grabbed a couple of those too.

Once in the dressing room, I struggled to untangle the huge mass and began trying the suckers on. My first revelation: the flat-chested, 16 year old nincompoop who measured me the other day apparently was absent the day they covered subtraction. Am I a 34B? Heck no. I am a proud (albeit it proud and saggy) 34D! Shut up, T. and C.--I can hear you laughing from here. How can this be? Before I got pregnant with Ladybug, I wore a 38D, but I weigh 25 lbs less than that now! How can my ta-tas not have shrunk?

Even though I had finally found the correct size, none seemed a great fit until the final bra. I strapped that puppy on and looked in the mirror and I swear my mouth dropped open. Sweet Jesus, we have a winner! Hot damn I looked good! My bosom looked like the majestic prow of a viking warship. I turned this way and that. I cut a fine figure from all sides. The thing even minimized my usually protruding underarm sausage!

I looked down at the label on this thing of wonder. Hell, wouldn't you know it but ole Oprah was right (and you too House of the Flying Monkeys. The Le Mystere bra did wonders. WONDERS I TELL YOU! Sure, if my husband tried to caress my newly elevated bosom, he would get a handful of foam, but who cares? It's not like he caresses them that much anyway--though I guess he might be tempted if they looked this magnificent.

I knew these darlings of the bra world were expensive, but when I looked at the price tag and saw $72, my heart sank a little. Could I spend that much on one bra? If I did, I feared I might have to submit myself to my More Money Than Brains category. I vowed to find something comparable for a less, so I went back out there. This time, I actually did find a well fitting Cabernet bra that was a very close second to Le Mystere and only $48 (I say only, but that still seems like a lot to me). And to tell you the truth, I actually liked it a little better because it wasn't as foamy. Hey, if they are going to look good, might as well feel good too, right?

So in the end I passed on Le Mystere and bought a few Cabernets. I am happy with the purchase, though I have to tell you, somewhere down the road, perhaps when my boobs are in even worse shape than the are now, I may come back to Le Mystere and decide it is worth the money. It really is a miracle bra.

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