Round Two: Another Post about Bras – Let’s Get Ready to Grumble!

Vintage Bras

Wow – we ladies certainly love our boobs, and have strong, loud and opinionated voices when it comes to protecting our options.  Whether it’s breast-feeding in public or the injustices brought about by ill-fitting and unflattering breast support, it seems that, when it comes to boobs, we’re ready to rumble.  Or grumble, more like.  In fact, the post I wrote about a month ago called “Bra Shopping:  Not as Titillating as I Had Hoped” was my most commented-upon post ever, since starting this blog back in 2005.  I received a lot of comments through Facebook, and was even offered custom assistance from a personal shopper who works in the lingerie department at Nordstrom’s.  Thank you so much for reading my rant and telling me how you feel regarding your own bra-shopping experiences!

Looks like I'm not the only one confused by bras.

Looks like I’m not the only one confused.

When it comes down to it, bras are pretty confusing.  Not the concept, of course – just give us something comfortable and pretty that can help stabilize our ta-tas.  Where this becomes troublesome is in the details.  For example:  Why the awkwardness – why is the clasp in the back?  Why so few sizes that are either pretty or sexy; do the physics of bra construction prevent the use of color, sparkles or texture?  And why the discomfort?  Why, oh for the love of god, WHY is METAL WIRE with STABBY ENDS a component of ANYTHING that comes near our boobs?  Where did we go wrong???

In addition to the problems I outlined in my previous post, a number of you wrote about issues that seem to be common when we go to the lingerie department.  Here are a few of your comments:

  • Linda wrote: “besides color and poor construction, why does almost every bra out there in larger sizes have padding in the cup???”  I know, right?  It seems like most “every day” bras now come standard with padding or are push-ups.  That’s not my idea of every-day comfort.
  • Amy echoed the above sentiment and added “I need a strap that doesn’t roll but hopefully doesn’t look like something out of a 1940s Sears catalog”, and I agree!
  • And Jessica also made a very good point about cost: “I take great issue with the fact that all the cute, frilly bras in the smaller sizes are always so much cheaper. I realize that it takes sturdier construction to hold up a larger chest, but come on. When they are three or four times the cost of all the other bras out there and still plain black, neutral or white that is just absurd. It is not that much extra fabric.”
  • But it’s not only the more curvy girls among us who have complaints; I heard quite a bit from the smaller ladies as well.  Susan wrote, “Try shopping for 36A, also known as the 36nipple. I do not want an underwire, I want comfort…is that too much to ask?”  Yes, yes it is, Susan.  Just. Too. Much.
  • And it’s not even just the women, the men have something to say too.  Ken passionately stated, “This injustice will not stand! I want everyone to have fun underthingies that fit. Seriously, why aren’t the manufacturers responding to the market that clearly needs a product? Do it for the boobies!”  Thank you, Ken, for your (ahem) support!

The fact is, we women like to think that every single one of us has broken the mold in some respect.  We like being individuals, unique, interesting, different from everyone else.  And when someone tells us that we have to force our boobs into something that is, well, molded to a few specific shapes and sizes, that rankles us to the core.  Truly, when I look back upon the history of the bra, I can’t say I’m excited for the future.  If they haven’t listened to us by now, when will they?

Gas Mask Bra

Well, I guess we’ve got priorities. At least it’s pretty!

At least I’m not allergic to Lucky Charms

Yesterday I was a happier person.  Albeit, I was a person who sneezed and sniffled and had a nose so itchy I wanted to rip it off my face and throw it on the ground, (like so, below) but I was happier.  I was a person who was not diagnosed as being allergic to anything.

threw-it-on-the-ground

Which I thought was odd, since my nose was determined to become the slimiest creature on earth, a title which is technically owned by eels, who produce the most slime per unit body mass of any other animal on earth.  Why, nose, why go for such a title?  How about something a little less mucousy and sneezy?  I argued with my nose about the issue, but she was not having any of it.  Hence, yesterday I took myself down to the allergy center to get tested so that I could potentially dash my nose’s dreams of becoming permanently disgusting.

You might notice that allergen 2 seems to be a lot angrier than the control (-) or allergen 1.  Can you guess what it is that I am allergic to?  I will give you five guesses (that’s your hint, btw).

So let’s start over again.  Yesterday, before allergy testing, I was a happier person.  When I walked into my house, this is what I used to see:

Awwwwww, right???  Look at those itty bitty kitties!  So snuggly and cute (well, the white one looks a little demonic, but for the most part, they are pretty freaking adorable).  WELL NOT ANYMORE, JACK, because since I’ve been allergy tested, all I see now when I walk in the door is this:

Which will inevitably lead to this:

And then this:

Or else this:

Which will obviously end up with me like this:

and

funny-gif-no-sneeze

Until finally, I’m like:

sneezing-motion

And ultimately like this:

make it stop

What’s a girl to do?  How can I be a crazy cat lady AND be allergic to cats?  Oh, the bitter, bitter irony.  You taste like cat fur and litter box dust, all rolled up into one huge hairball of sneeze.  Why, sucky immune system, why???

The good news is that I am willing to live the rest of my life taking potentially unhealthy doses of nasal steroids and antihistamines every day (or at least until all the cats die and I run out of cat refills).  Also, I did not take any tests yesterday that indicated I am allergic to Lucky Charms cereal.  So wow, bright side it is.  Suck it, universe.

Bra Shopping: Not as titillating as I had hoped

Alright, so if you do not want to hear about my latest bra shopping adventure (which probably includes information about my own boobs), you might not want to read this post.  Still reading?  Ok, good.  Now, the fact that YOU may or may not have boobs is irrelevant to what I’m going to talk/rant about, so don’t think that this is going to be a post entirely about how people who don’t need bras get off easy (um, which they do, just saying).  NO!!!  This is a post about how 1) fashion designers are glorified even though they only produce bras for a very small portion of women, and 2) anyone who doesn’t fit into that very small portion of women is SOL when it comes to buying cute underthingies, thus making us (yes, me included) feel like we are somehow not deserving of said cute underthingies.

Our story begins when I broke my bra last week.  And as long as I’m being honest, I’ll admit that I have a favorite bra, a go-to bra that I wear 90% of the time.  It’s not that I don’t have other bras, it’s just that this one is the most comfortable, flattering, and matches with most of my underpants.  But as of last week, the METAL WIRE TORTURE APPARATUS that is apparently critical to the support system of this bra POPPED out of the side seam and commenced full-on stabbing me in the side of my left boob.  So sad!  And painful!  But it was time to get a new bra anyway, because mine was resembling something like this, only in black:

old bra

I’m sure you’ve had a similar problem at one time or another, yes?  So, I decided to bite the bullet and <gulp, I just threw up a little in my mouth> go to the mall to hunt and capture at least a couple of brassieres that could handle the challenge of lugging these old titsballs around on a daily basis.  You’re probably thinking to yourself, ok, so just go to Victoria’s Secret – what’s the big deal?  I’LL TELL YOU WHAT THE BIG DEAL IS:  I HATE VICTORIA’S SECRET!!!  Let me count the ways:

  1. As soon as you step in the store, some 22 year old runs up to you and accosts you with questions about what you’re looking for and how she can help and what size are you and what sexual positions does your partner(s) like.  Which would appear, at first glance, that she is just trying to be helpful and not incredibly intrusive.  Upon receiving an answer of “no thanks, I’m just looking around”, she slinks off, only to be replaced by ANOTHER 22 year old who demands an answer to similar questions.  And I swear to god, they will not leave you alone, unless you bring your boyfriend with you (and make sure he looks embarrassed to be there).  It is not impossible that the same salesgirls that previously asked if you needed help and were turned down will come back and ask you a second or third or even fourth time.  ERGGGG!!!  Just leave me alone to shop for unmentionables in my own personal space bubble, okay???  Jeesh!
  2. While some of the merchandise at VS cute, it is, generally, of poor quality and produced in countries that don’t provide their workers with living wages.
  3. I very much DISLIKE how VS has been marketing to the pre-teen crowd with their PINK line for several years now.  Their models look like they are 12 years old, and it’s just INAPPROPRIATE!!!  So I guess that makes me an old fart.
  4. Getting back to the point of this post, VS carries merchandise that fits only a small portion of the population.

Let’s get down to bras(s) tacks.  I have been wearing bras that are size 36-B for YEARS.  The past couple of years I’ve really should have been wearing a size 38-B, but I have been avoiding making the switch for a couple of reasons, including that it was just hard to find cute bras over size 36″ anywhere (including VS, although they have a few, I’ll admit, but see issues 1-3 above).  Plus, I am finally at that point in life where I’d just rather be comfortable – so bring on the size 38 bras and yoga pants.  Since I had a coupon to Macy’s, I figured I’d go shopping there to see what their lingerie department could do for me.  At first it wasn’t too bad, other than my head swimming at being confronted by all the double-barreled boob slings hanging everywhere.  Really, after a while, they just start to look ridiculous, am I right?  Anyway, right when you get to the lingerie department, the first thing you see is a wall of Calvin Klein, DKNY, and a couple of other designer brands.  And they had cute stuff – all different colors, cuts and textures!  So I started sorting through them and the ONLY sizes they carried were 32-36″.  W.T.F.

Now, I’m not a big person, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable to carry more than 3 chest sizes (granted, with multiple cup sizes).  But upon investigation, all the designer brands went no larger than 36″.  Grrrr – what gives?  Ok, I guess I need to just bite the bullet and march on over to the non-designer brands, which actually take up the majority of the lingerie department floor.  And there I am confronted with a SEA of black and nude GIGANTOR bras…mostly plain, mostly full coverage, mostly austere and penal-looking.  Soooo depressing!!!  Why are we, the majority of the female population who are not incredibly tiny, given so few cute underthingie options?  After hunting around for a great while, I managed to find a rack of demi-bras that were deliciously soft and lacy.  But still only black and nude colored.  This was fine for my purposes (after all, I just needed another regular go-to bra), but it left me feeling like 1) I must be a huge person to not be able to fit into the “regular” designer brands anymore, and 2) I guess I don’t deserve to wear all the cute underthingies that our stylish, exclusive brand-name designers are making.

Well that’s just bullshit, I say…bullshit!  I have a couple of recommendations for the lingerie industry, and I hope that department stores and other retailers, as well as designers, will take note (pshaw, as if!):

  1. If you’re a designer like Calvin Klein or DKNY, why don’t you serve more than a fraction of our population?  We have a lot of money to spend on your overpriced merchandise, you know.  Offering up more than 3 chest sizes (on the small end, no less) would be just grand.  And stores:  if fashion designers like Calvin and Klein are only catering to a few sizes, WHY reward them by putting up an exclusive display wall right at the front of the department?  It just makes your customers feel shitty when they get excited about all the cute underthingies and then can’t find any in their size.  Shoot those suckers to the back of the store – they don’t deserve the advantage or reward!
  2. Being excluded from the section of cute underthingies and being “relegated” to a sea of black or nude full-coverage bras is not fun, either.  I’m sure that there are plenty of average and larger ladies who want cute underthingy options – we don’t just want to slink off in shame and hide our lady lumps in drab beige or black camouflaged utilitarian support devices all the time.  Give us something fun to wear!  In colors!  With sparkles!  And fanciness!  We want to feel good about ourselves when we step out of our clothes, and fun cute underthingies can help!  The key is options.  We deserve cuteness, just like all those 32-36″ girls do!

That’s about all I have to say about that.  Apologies for the rant, but really, I was about ready to bust some nuts on someone Saturday.  And that’s just how utilitarian underwear makes me feel.  Do you really want that out there in the world, Calvin Klein?  Do you?

Blllaaaaahhhhhhhhhh…….

I wish I had something interesting to write about.  I wish I had something interesting to think about. Unfortunately, it is Sunday evening and I am pondering what tomorrow will be like…but the answer is already too clear.  I will be in a meeting from 9 to 3.  First, I hate meetings.  Second, I start getting angry when they go beyond an hour.  Third, what’s up with no breaks???  Fourth, don’t even suggest a working lunch.  Alright, here are some funny pictures to help me see my upcoming Monday in a more cheerful light.  Ready?  Here we go!

 
 
 

Really? For *this* Dress? Really.

Tell me this is not the most hideous dress you have ever seen. And I will tell you that, in fact, it was purchased from Bloomingdales.com for nearly $300. The dress is not mine, nor could you pay me $300 to wear it. Nor would I pass it along to any of you fine folks for free.

The reason you, dear readers, are subjected to looking upon this eyesore is because some *ass monkey* took it upon themselves to steal my debit card number (I still don’t know exactly how that happened, since I still have the card) and make several online purchases. Two from Bloomingdales, and one from the Apple Online Store. The purchases overdrew my checking account and I received an overdraft protection notice shortly after the second Bloomingdales purchase was made, so I was on the phone with my bank immediately. They actually were great – they refunded the money to my account, canceled my debit card, issued me a temporary debit card, and opened up a fraud investigation.

I also called the police about the matter, since it was unlikely that the bank would actually ever pursue a criminal investigation because the amount of money was so small (just under $500 for bloomies and I don’t know how much from Apple, since the charge was pending for $1.00 when I canceled my account). I wanted to know how people could get away with ordering something online, having it delivered, and *not* get caught. It turns out that they can give a fake address and when the order is returned to the shipping warehouse, they get an email letting them know that the delivery address was incorrect but that they can come to the shipping facility to pick up the package. Or, they can have things delivered to a P.O. box. And, it’s fairly easy to get credit card numbers to sell or give away – at restaurants when you give your credit card away to be run, sometimes an employee will just make a copy of it to keep. Or at a gas station. Or anywhere, really. So keep an eye on your card!

The detective called Bloomingdales to get information on the purchases, which had billing addresses in Kentucky and Texas (i.e., fake addresses), and a delivery address in Alameda, CA. But apparently, someone got nervous because they did a little research to find my work address, and changed the billing address to my work address. And for the second Bloomingdales purchase, they also changed the delivery address to my work address. Which is how I got the dress (which I plan to return, since it is not mine and I didn’t pay for it). Maybe they saw how quickly I caught the fraudulent activity and got scared; maybe they decided they didn’t want the dress after all – I don’t know. But it really pisses me off that Bloomingdales let the purchase go through even though the billing address didn’t match the one on my check card account…if they don’t need to match, why do we even provide that information when we place an online order???

So this begs the question…why would anyone risk prosecution, commit identity theft, screw up someone’s finances, all for such an ugly, hideous dress? The answer, I think, is that there are people out there who have horrible taste, not only in fashion, but in the way they choose to live their lives, with little regard for others and no concept of being accountable for one’s own actions. These are the leeches on our society, and they try to disguise themselves as normal humans with fancy clothes and expensive toys. It’s difficult to tell them apart from hard-working responsible decent folk, but evidently they often wear excessively ugly dresses.

So good luck with the whole karma thing, buddy – let me know how that works out for you. You apparently know where to contact me.

Last Post of 2008!

Are you ready for this stupid year to be over? I am. So get the hell out of here, 2008; don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out. I actually can’t believe that 2008 is gone – I remember being a kid and time seemed to goooo bbyyyyyyyy sssssoooooooooooo ssssllllllooooowwwwwwwlllllyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…and now (that I’ve probably gotten Alzheimer’s as a result of extreme boredom; see previous blog) time sms to go bi 2 qwik. I can’t fathom that I’ve been in Southern California for over four years now – what the hell??? So, for those of you who haven’t been reading my blog (or who have just been reading about the good times), here’s a little recap of my 2008 for you (in no particular order):

  • Teddy Bear is still alive. Slower, more insane, more needy, more apt to urinate on the carpet, and apparently immortal. I suspect that he is surviving by consuming my soul and happiness.
  • I spent vast quantities of money to keep Zoe going. She seems to be happy and active.
  • Related to the above, I pretty much broke even in my attempts to work down my debt. I haven’t really decreased it, but haven’t really added to it either.
  • I only noticed about half a dozen visits by the cops to my apartment complex. This ‘hood is really cleaning itself up!
  • My ceiling collapsed zero times.
  • I failed (yet again) to procure an acceptable boyfriend, as all men in SoCal are either gay, taken, or total assholes.
  • I developed secret crushes on my cat’s vet and one of the vet techs, at two different offices. Zoe has all the luck! However, there are complications which prevent me from pursuing either of these as potential relationships (see above point).
  • I watched my arch-nemesis perfect her rimming skills and be rewarded for it with a promotion and office upgrade.
  • I devised an airtight excuse to visit Las Vegas.
  • I managed to lose almost 15 lbs, which includes the mole I had removed from my face.
  • Although, in the past week I probably gained about five of those pounds back (but the mole is still gone, so I’m psyched about that).
  • I perfected the fine art of applying liquid liner to my upper eyelid, with the results not completely appearing as if I stayed up for three days smoking crack with Amy Winehouse (see new year’s resolution discussion, below). Additionally, my hair finally realized that I mean business when it comes to straightening, armed with a split-end inducing arsenal of flat irons and straightening gels.
  • My brother spawned, so that alleviates the need for me to breed in order to make a genetic contribution to future generations. Ok, so I realize that it’s my brother’s kid which means that my genes will not be represented as much as if it was my kid, but I don’t have to get pregnant and squeeze a small human out of my vag. So it’s a fair trade-off, I think.
  • With minimal effort and a little bit of practical application, I vastly improved my nick-name generating and limerick-writing skills (just try me sometime…).

That’s all I can think of for now. Actually, that’s not completely true – I can think of a lot more. But I don’t want to rehash ALL the super fun times I had; I’d like to keep many of those moments private, just for me to own. Anyone have any resolutions? I’m generally against those – “I resolve to lose weight, stop drinking, quell my road rage, kick the crack habit, etc.” But this year I think I’ve come up with a good one – I’m going to stop eating factory farmed meat. I haven’t really eaten red meat in over ten years (with the exception of critters that friends have hunted, or that was raised organic and free range – yeah, buffalo, I’m talking about you), but it will be difficult to cut out the chicken and turkey. I’ll eat it occasionally if I can get the free range variety, and I’ll still eat fish. But I just can’t stomach (literally) anymore the thought of supporting those massive henhouses that cramp chickens in shoebox-sized cages for their entire lives. I think my decision was made when I saw the video of Sarah Palin at the turkey slaughterhouse, with turkeys getting killed right behind her, saying she was having a “great time”. Blech.

Anyway, happy new year, y’all. Have a good one.

New Study Links Early Onset Alzheimer’s to Extreme Boredom

A new study, conducted by the National Senility Institute, has revealed shocking new evidence that extreme boredom may lead to the early onset of Alzheimer’s disease. Under the most severe conditions, symptoms can start to show as early as age thirty in some patients. While only preliminary studies have been completed, the groundwork is set for more in-depth investigations as to the reasons why boredom can cause senility, progressing eventually to Alzheimer’s disease. Brain atrophy, a common result of chronic boredom, is thought to be the primary mechanism for advances in memory loss and dementia.

Marci Karski, NSI’s only study subject in the pilot studies to date, has exhibited startling signs of memory loss, a recent lack of creativity, an inability to utilize any kind of vocabulary other than rudimentary sentence formations, and a tendency to drool. “I started to worry, you know, because, like, I can’t think good anymore. I used to be kinda smart and stuff,” Karski lamented. Upon urging from colleagues and family, Karski decided to contact NSI for an evaluation.

Fortunately, NSI had been studying the effects of boredom on the human brain for quite some time. Preliminary investigations have revealed that extreme boredom (defined, in part, as sitting on one’s ass for up to 8 hours per day in front of a desk while performing tasks that don’t feel useful or fulfilling) can account for up to 75 percent of the variability exhibited by early onset dementia symptoms. Other contributing lifestyle factors may include excessive exposure to reality television, constantly whining geriatric dogs, and “not getting any”. Unfortunately, Karski faces all of these risks on a daily basis, so it is difficult to isolate which of these confounding factors may be primary causes for dementia, as opposed to just a minor pain in the ass.

“I’m hopeful that the NSI will find a cure for my disease,” Karski stated. “Maybe some day I’ll be able to think good again, and like, do stuff. Wait – who are you again? Where am I? What the hell are you talking about?”

For further information regarding this study, or to participate in future investigations pertaining to senility and boredom, contact the NSI and use trial code “I don’t want to end up like Karski” for the study reference.

A great start to a fabulous Labor Day weekend…

Saturday:
6:07 am – wake up call from Zoe meowing and demanding food
9:30 am – phone call with friend Brenda in Minnesota, learned the meaning of the word “gitchy”
10:42 am – drive Zoe to Acacia for her monthly catupuncture session
12:24 pm – finally leave Acacia after learning that Zoe has lost 3/4 lb. (down to 5.4 lbs) and opting for a full panel blood test
1:09 pm – arrive at Joanne’s to figure out what to sew for class; pick out easy pattern for a closet organizer and black fabric featuring skulls and roses
1:54 pm – scarf down a chicken pita pocket prior to sewing class
2:00 pm – sewing class starts
3:14 pm – realize that I fucked up and cut large strips of fabric only half the width they were supposed to be
3:16 pm – realize that I knew I was going to fuck up and breathe a sigh of relief that I had purchased lots of extra matching fabric
4:42 pm – leave sewing class a little early
5:00 pm – walk into apartment as vet calls, telling me that Zoe’s blood sugar is extremely high and that she’s definitely diabetic and that she needs to get to California Vet Specialists asap for insulin
5:42 pm – arrive at CVS with Mom and a very pissed off Zoe
8:17 pm – finally leave CVS with Mom and even more pissed off Zoe, who has had an insulin shot and been taken off her cancer meds, along with instructions to come back Sunday morning for another blood glucose check
9:08 pm – give up on finding anything good on tv, read in bed, sleep

Sunday:
7:02 am – wake up call from Zoe, feed her food she doesn’t want to eat
8:17 am – take Zoe back to CVS
10:30 am – retrieve Zoe from CVS, who has been given fluids and instructions to come back again on Monday for another recheck
Current time – blog blog blog, realizing that I spent almost $600 on Zoe’s medical needs in the past 24 hours

Stay tuned for more excitement!