Finding the perfect fit

I hate shopping.  I hate just about all kinds of shopping, but I especially hate shopping when I have to find something that fits.  The basics groceries, toilet paper, shampoo, etc don’t bother me.  Although I will say that I hate Wal-mart and given a choice I will try to find a less populated Target or shop on the “off” hours. 

Back to finding things that fit….As all women know shopping for jeans is an Olympic event.  There are millions of choices and nothing fits just right in the waist, thighs, and then doesn’t feature your butt crack when you bend over.  And then in my case you must add finding a pair short enough.

While I could tell you stories of jeans this story is about something else that needs to fit just right, has just as many millions of choices, and in my world just might be more frustrating: bras.

I recently got done nursing baby number 3 and discovered that I own one non-nursing bra that fits.  One.  And not one nice bra, but one beat up, older than my 5 year old son bra.  It was originally white but was a dingy shade of gray. 

After making this discovery I think, there has to be more so I dig and find some ancient sports bras from back in the college days (which has now been 10 years).  Do you know what elastic does after 10 years?  Yep, when you pull it, it snaps, crackles, pops and then just laughs as it stays in it stretched out state.

I lump along for about 4 weeks with 1 lowly, decrepit bra.  I tried purchasing a new one about 2 weeks into this fiasco, but I was shopping with 3 kids in Wal-mart.  That’s a completely different blog topic and other Olympic event, although I must say they were good kids.  (We’re just not “street” savvy.) And it’s because they were being good that I asked them if they thought we could go check out bras for mommy.

It was that day that I discovered the plethora of selection: t-shirt bras, push-ups at levels 1, 2, and 3, padded, unpadded, with a wire, without, lace, black, white, cream, wild and crazy, with matching undies….. I freaked out, told the kids just how proud I was that we had survived Wal-mart, but that we were giving up on the bra quest.

Two weeks later I managed to get to go to Wal-mart by myself (mind you we live 100 miles from the closest Wal-mart).  I went to the bra section first thinking I would begin my quest by looking at the white bras.  White works well with most everything, right.  Of course I have NO clue what size I am and they don’t measure in Wal-mart.  So I wing it.  Something’s got to hold up these droopy, old nursing mommy boobs!

My first trip to the dressing room I try to take in as many sizes and styles I can, but I’ll be darned if some sizes exist.  I have a few underwire and ones without a wire, a couple of band sizes and cups sizes.  The goal, find one that works the first time.  I went in with 8 bras and left with not a one working.  Guess cup size increases with droopy, nursed for 3 years total boobs?

Back out and I come back with 5 more.  One might work, but I’m still not convinced.  By now it’s been about 30 minutes of this nonsense and I’m thinking I can survive with one bra.  By now I’m pretty sure I’m either one of those popular sizes or odd sizes because I cannot find anything where the cup and band size meet what I think is going to be comfortable. (Maybe my body is just that odd of a shape!)  J

One the third trip in I find one that I think I might be able to live with.  I decided not to get in too deep and only purchased two. 

So far I’m two days in with the new over-the-shoulder boulder holders and it’s been going pretty well.  I’m recovering from my dressing room experience and don’t think therapy will be needed this time.