Strap in for safety

Trying on bras is the worst punishment for over-eating EVER! To sum up, in one word, the experience is shameful.

The good news is: I have a new bra.

The bad news is: nothing says "Your fat ass is in need of a workout" like standing in front of a full lenth mirror, doubled over whilst trying to cram your melons into a cup size you know you wore the last time you had to buy a bra!

And for us, um.......well-endowed ladies, the bra buying experience sucks two fold. The above paragraph explains the first reason, but if you're that dense, focus on the cramming of melons! The second reason being that bras for the well-endowed are.....well, FUGLY. Anything over a D cup and you're suddenly shopping for old lady bras at Granny's R Us! Utilitarian contraptions that turn your rounded melons into parking cones, with your choice of color being limited to white or black. Anything for a well-endowed in a zebra or cheetah print, or a pastel, is unheard of. Hell, you feel as if you've won the lottery if you can find a big girl bra in the color nude!

Now for all you Victoria's Secret advocators (read: Bitches), yes. I am aware they now serve the DD cup community. I am also aware that their DD's come in a variety of colors, textures and styles. They are lovely. IF your ass is 5'10" and you resemble Miranda Kerr. If, on the other hand, you are only 5'4" and carry most of your weight in your boobs, these bras are useless. Basic flaw- that cute, little strap designed to hold perky boobies fails miserably when melons are involved. I don't know about the majority of well-endowed ladies, but this Snarky Brunette likes to be able to walk down the street and not knock herself out with her own teets!

So. Where does that leave us? Well, it left me in the "Undergarment" section of Macy's. Armed with my 4 choices (2 different styles; 4 different sizes. Be prepared. That's my motto.....), I headed to the fitting room pleased with myself for trying not one but TWO different styles (I hate change. Sue me.). First one secured, twist around to the back, flip it up. Oh, that strap is so not going up onto my shoulder.....NEXT! Second one secured, twist around to the back, flip it up; first strap up, then second.......bend over and STUFF! Hmmmmmmm...... nice shape.....but do the melons seem a bit......oh I don't know........wall-eyed? Perhaps another style is in order? Third one secured, twist around to the back....blah blah blah, bend over and STUFF!

WOW. Aside from the obvious 15 pounds that is currently hanging off all sides of the bra like little alien cling-ons (look away........look away!), the melons are looking good! Houston, we have lift off! Check myself from the side- no parking cones. Check myself from the front, again: even positioning, no boobie spillage over the top. I think I have a winner.

The final challenge is putting my shirt on over the bra- we are looking for curvature without any trace of the actual bra itself. When you're well-endowed, and have been your entire life, you tend to spend said life not drawing attention to your well-endowed-ness. I think I speak for all intelligent, well-endowed ladies when I say: bras with little embellishments and swirly designs that are conveniently located over your nipple are best left to those girls who carry nothing more than a child-sized, ice cream scoop on their torso!

Where was I?

Oh yes, the shirt test. The shirt goes on; smoothed down...... and Hello, Dolly! I consider for a brief moment that I do not like the tiny, embroided floral embellishemt that divides the two cups, but then I hear Tk's voice in my head, goading me at the top of her lungs: DO IT, DO IT, DO IT! Step outta yer box......change can be good! And then I hear Lynda's voice: Sister, please......buy the fk'n bra already and get me out of this goddamn store! And then I hear KB: Be Brave.....right, Sweet Pea?

Which brings us full circle.

The good news is: I have a new bra. In a new style, with a tiny embellishment. The melons are up and I'm pretty sure this bra is yanking my posture back into the upright position!

The bad news is: I so wasn't kidding when I proclaimed in my New Year's reflection:
PLEASE GOD, LET ME LOSE 15 POUNDS!