I've been wearing the wrong size bra for about 25 years
Published 11/08/2015 | 00:00
I feel like a new woman this week.
And what would be the reason for this joie de vivre you may ask? Well-avert your eyes now if you don't want the gory details-but I got new boobs!
I suppose if I'm to be completely accurate, I should say at this point that I didn't exactly get new ones, or go under the knife. They're the same ones I've always had, only better, thanks to a lovely girl in a shop who informed me that I've been wearing the wrong size bra for...oh about 25 years!
The problem of my Houdini boobs has been going on for some time. Every time I bought a bra or bikini I'd pop out of it like Barbara Windsor in a Carry On Film. So I'd buy a bigger size and I'd still pop out of it. I'd buy a smaller size and I'd end up with four boobs. I just seemed to have bosoms that were eager to escape the confines of a bra.
That's all well and good when you're in your twenties and society deems it acceptable to have your lovely pert breasts on display. But when you're a middle aged mother and wife who keeps bursting out of her shirts, you just look...well cheap really!
So in I went to get fitted for a bra and lined up behind all the OAPS who were buying new brassieres as well. I stood there looking at the girdles, maxi briefs and bed jackets and thought to myself, 'This is it, my life is over.'
Before I even had the chance to tell the girl my problem she looked at my cleavage and said, 'your bra is too small for you.' I insisted I couldn't be any bigger. In fact I think I had long ago decided that I simply wasn't going to be any bigger.
As it turned out I was wearing a bra one size too big across the back and two sizes too small in the cup. The sales assistant told me what size I really was and I nearly had to sit down. 'NO!? I couldn't be!' Jaysus I can still remember my mother bringing me in to get fitted for my first bra-28 AA, God be with the days!
The sales assistant returned with the right size bra which miraculously transformed my wayward bosoms into tidy little firm mounds. I bounced. Nothing happened. I jiggled. They did not move. They just stayed where they were supposed to. I hugged the sales assistant with joy. She had just given me a new lease of life.
I practically skipped in the door home and beamed at Himself. 'Notice anything different about me?' Now this question always puts men on edge. They know you've had something done, can't determine what it is so they usually say 'You're hair is nice.'
But he didn't. He gave me a good once over and said in astonishment, 'your boobs."
'What about my boobs?'
'They're smaller. Much smaller! Oh please tell me you haven't had a boob job? How much did that cost??'
Now that's what I call a result!