Men are so lucky they don’t have boobs. Well, some of them do, I suppose – those ones aren’t lucky at all, coz their man-boobs just have to wobble and jiggle and be uncomfortable (I’m kind of surprised that Mr Costanza’s ‘mansierre’ didn’t catch on, ha ha ha!)
Erk – wrenching my mind away from thoughts of man-boobs now. It’s been that sort of morning.
Bras suck. They really do. They’re expensive, uncomfortable and it’s hard to get a good fit. The straps slide down your arms. The elastic loses its elasticity. The underwires poke into tender spots. Sometimes the underwires decide to come out altogether. The hooks bend or come off. The straps on convertibles come off at awkward times. *sigh* They’re a nightmare.
Youngsters with perky boobs (or oldsters with little boobs) have it made. They can go through life without knowing the horrors of [dramatic music] the Straitjacket Bra.
I bought a couple the other day. They weren’t cheap, either. I suppose that’s because they have good ‘support’. Here’s a hint to the makers of bras – ‘good support doesn’t mean they need to feel like a boa constrictor, squeezing the life out of you and stopping your rib cage expanding. Sheesh – the whalebone corset era, when young women would faint because of the tightness of their foundation garments, is supposed to be gone with the wind, folks!
These new bras of mine are so horribly, unbearably uncomfortable, especially in the hot weather; more especially when the air-con at work decides not to work, and even more especially when I get a bloody hot flush on top of all that! It’s hell on earth, I tell you! I want to scream and rip off my bra and burn the bloody thing! Such a public protest, however (quite apart from being mistakenly interpreted as a belated conversion to feminism - WRONG! I've been a feminist for years) and potentially giving me bruised knees, would no doubt lead to me having to wear a different sort of straitjacket!
It’s hard being a woman.