Thursday, April 10, 2008

Shopping Trip Goes Tits Up

This evening, after a long and sticky day at work and a long and sticky dinner in BonGa with my colleagues after work, I decided (out of necessity) to go bra shopping. Bras. Women* seem to get all of a flutter about them. Shoes I get, dresses too (I bought a lovely flouncy grey leopard print one today, it's very pretty) but bras do nothing for me. I may have mentioned once or twice that I am a little lacking in the diddies department, which I suppose might have something to do with my lack of enthusiasm. This would not be so bad had my body not seen fit to compensate for my flat-chestedness with some roundy-arsedness instead, but I can find plenty of lovely knickers to suit that; it's finding the cíochbheart** to go with them that causes the stress. The font of all knowledge (Wikipedia) maintains that 90% of women in the Western World wear the damn things, so how hard could it be to find a nice black lace one in my size? Very, it seems.

I'm fussy about the type of bra I'll wear and I fucking hate shopping for them because I can never find one I like that fits. Despite my jugs-envy, I won't wear ones with padding; I may not have much diddy to display but I think that what little there is looks better in silhouette than some synthetic foam or worse, those chicken fillet inserts. I tried them once as an emergency fix - I had a ball to attend and my dress (a panic buy) gaped at the bust. I felt a bit funny about borrowing them from a friend (they feel like rather intimate accoutrements) and the end result just made me look as if I had saggy C cups lolling either side of my bellybutton. FAIL. Busty bombshell I was not. I resent the slight padding of t-shirt bras, obscuring nipples as if they were somehow rude or inappropriate. I'm an A cup! Nipples are all I have!

Actually, I'm sometimes a B. It depends on the brand, which does not make life any easier. It means I spend ages in changing rooms trying them on and getting more and more pissed off by the minute while the saleslady hovers with her measuring tape, insisting that I should try the next size up. And then watching her face fall when she sees that the next size up gapes both visibly and risibly. Finding the right one is an almost spiritual experience, I don't like shopping for them but I do like wearing them.

Charlie Dimmock I ain't. Bring back corsets, I say.

*These ones in particular.
**Translates as boob-bundler. Brilliant.

15 comments:

lozenge said...

nothing much to add here about diddies+brars, but is bonga good for bibimbop and bbq? best on capel?

stereotyping said...

I'm so glad I'm a man.I'm not boasting, I'm genuinky relieved.
Last month, I was spending a night splayed on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep when Trinny and Susannah came on. For the first while I wasn't watching it, I was just dozing. But I noticed lots of women walking around in bras so it sort of got my attention.
I was flabergasted when they went around, in disguise, to get themselves fitted for bras and in every shop they came out with a different size. Basically, every make of bra is sized differently, so most of the time, women are wearing completely the wrong size.
Flabergasted so I was! It's like walking around with ill-fitting shoes. Dunno how ye put up with it!

AJ said...

"Nipples are all I have!"

Nipples are all that count. Boobs fall victim to gravity, nipples are like puppies (no pun intended), they're for life.

Oh and I second Stereotyping comment I love being a man. I don't think I've ever actually tried on clothes in a shop. I know my sizes and they're pretty much universal in shops. Never understood why womens sizes are different in different shops....weird.

AJ said...

"This would not be so bad had my body not seen fit to compensate for my flat-chestedness with some roundy-arsedness instead"

And that's supposed to be a bad thing?

Katherine said...

Have you seen Mad Men? All the ladies in that have strange pointy boobs. Just be glad they're not in fashion.

emordino said...

Shopping Trip Goes Tits Up

is the kind of headline that should be on front pages. None of this shite about what Brian Cowen plans to eat for his next thousand dinners.

Shit one about the wacky sizing, but at least Gok Wan is on the case.

Foreigner by Default said...

Yeah. Well. I do sympathize. Kinda. Seeing as I have an opposite problem of trying to fit my substantial but non-standard knockers into standard bras.

And I'm with you about the "get yourself properly measured if you want a well-fitting bra" theory. Total bollocks. Every time I get measured I get a different result and will be presented with outrageously ill-fitting bra.

Bhah.

Rosie said...

the bbq's excellent, John, as are the curries, the sushi and all of the other stuff that i didin't recognise but ate anyway. it's particularly good if, like my brother, you eat according to how much time you have left before the film rather than how hungry you are (4 plates... i think even the staff were impressed by his determination)

dunno about the karaoke, i'm allergic to it.

"I wasn't watching it, I was just dozing"... you and many's the man, StereoT.

as for the size thing, a friend of mine was recently measured as a 40A and a 38DD in the same week. ridiculous.

Gok's the man alright! i'd quite like him to massage my ego for a bit and then have a team of professionals take nice nudie photographs of me, but i'd rather not document the experience on telly.

Brian Cowen is a B cup, i reckon.

Mad Men i have not seen, though i've heard good things about it. that Joan woman... wow. yes please.

you have my sympathy, Foreigner, as i can manage just fine without but presumably you need a little support!

Primal Sneeze said...

I got fitted for a jockstrap once. The assistant was very professional. She took all sorts of measurements and even trebled checked them.

Damn thing was way too big for me when I tried it on at home. Go figure,huh.

Annie said...

ah, I didn't say it was easy. It's more like the search for the Holy Grail. I saw a documentary once where these two industrial engineers took on the problem of designing a decent bra. 'How hard can it be?' they scoffed. But they were forced to admit defeat. I dream of buying a bra from the splendidly named Poupie Cadolle in Paris who does hand-made bras. For the entirely reasonable price of 550 euros...

Rosie said...

she must have had nice warm hands, Primal.

Annie, at this stage €550 sounds to me like money well spent. i have spent a small fortune on bras that almost fit that i've bought out of sheer frustration, none of which i have ever worn more than once.

aonghus said...

Céard faoin ait sin trasna ón Irish Times? Scríobh Katherine Holmqvist alt thar a bheith moltach fúthu.

Ní cuimhin loim an t-ainm atá ar an áit, ó tharla nach bhfuil ga agam le beart dá leithéid.

Felix for Zosia said...

I hate bra shopping. I actually found one a couple of weeks ago that is pretty, has no underwire (hate that shit) and FITS me. I think it's the first time I have had a comfortable bra for about 5 or 6 years. Fucking ridiculous. PS: it was on special. I know this is a very special moment in my life, and will never be repeated.

Rosie said...

déanfaidh mé roinnt fiosrúcháin, mar sin...

oh no, Felix, i'm a big fan of underwire. anything else looks like i'm wearing a training bra. admittedly on occasion, i am.

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