Bra Shopping

So, as if you needed further confirmation that I am going completely off my rocker, today I cried while shopping for a bra.


If you are my facebook friend (which, many of you make your way to my blog from my facebook page), you may or may not have seen my post about crying about the new drapes we put up yesterday.  They are flowery and purple and they make me feel like a princess, in a way I’ve never felt before:  because I’ve never decorated any place I’ve lived.

Well today, I was shopping for a bra, because the last one I bought was well before Keith and I ever even met; suffice to say, they are pretty raggedy.  (Great to know, right?  We are going to be great friends after you get through this blog.  This is your fair warning to stop here if you’re not comfortable with words like, “bra” or “boobs”.)

As I was purusing the shelves of Target (because – where else do you buy anything), I started to get stressed.  What kind of bra am I supposed to buy?  What size am I, even?  Do I like underwires?  Padding?  Do I want a design, or do I want something basic?  Soft material, or maybe cotton?  I have no idea.

I found some bras that I thought looked comfortable, and then I realized they were nursing bras.  I don’t know much about that, but I imagine as a non-lactating female, maybe this shouldn’t be what I get.

So, what kind of bra should I buy?  The last bra I bought was four and a half years ago, for $3, on sale, at TJ Maxx.  I didn’t particularly like it, but it was cheap and it did the job – so, what did it matter?

As has been my choices of clothing and personal products for the last several years.  Function, function, function.  “I’m just not fancy,” I would tell myself.  “I’m just not materialistic.  I don’t need a $20 bra when a $3 bra will do.  I’m so financially savvy.”

And so, like each apartment I’ve lived in since I was 18, I didn’t decorate anything.  I never appreciated my surroundings.  Why make things pretty and cozy when I can be practical?

So when faced with the decision of what bra to buy, when there is no $3 bra, what bra was I supposed to purchase?

I have no idea what I like.  I like to be comfortable, but to be honest, I don’t know what I even think is comfortable, bra-wise.  I’ve never paid much attention.

And okay, let’s get one thing out of the way here:  it’s not like I never bought cute bras, either.  It’s just:  I bought them because I thought I was supposed to buy them.  Because they were there, because my friends bought cute bras, because I wanted to have something different.

But what did I really like? What was my style? I don’t even have a clothing style, let alone a bra style.

And boobs.  This is all just to decorate and support my boobs, I mean, honestly.

Before, I thought, “Oh, they’re just my boobs.”  They were in the way. I wanted to hide them and pretend like they didn’t exist, so to spend time actually choosing a bra made no sense for something I spent no time thinking about.

But – boobs!  Boobs are meant to be celebrated.  First of all, they’re beautiful.  They’re feminine and an expression of your body.  They feed our children.  They represent womanhood.  And I’m sure if you asked a breast cancer survivor who has lost one or both breasts, they hold an entirely different appreciation for boobs and what they can do.

And who am I to completely disregard something for which I am so lucky to have?

My breasts are beautiful.  (Or at least if you ask my husband.)  They’re still perky and sure, maybe one is a bit larger than the other, and I have a really bright red dot on one of them, but they’re mine.  They’re healthy.  One day they’ll feed my hypothetical babies.

Boobs should be CELEBRATED.  Like each body part.  Dress that SHIT UP.  Don’t just accept your body…  LOVE it.


So anyway, I cried in Target trying to buy a bra.  Because for 28 years I’ve paid absolutely no attention to something so meaningful for so many women.

And I bought a bra, too.  It wasn’t the cheapest one, nor the most expensive, and I have no idea if I’ll like it or not.  But it’s brown, and it reminds me of the earth and trees.  And it’s soft, which might feel nice on my skin.  And it’s pretty basic, actually.

But I think I like basic things.  I don’t like a lot of frill, and I’m not super girly.  But it’s still feminine, which I am, and maybe it will help me to celebrate my breasts instead of ignore them.

Because – boobs are great.

Mine are, too.

So are yours.

We should all love boobs a little more.

And, if you see some poor girl crying while trying to pick out a bra…  Just leave her alone.  She’ll figure it out.


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