photograph by Kiwi_Steph
There I was. Walking from room to room. Bending to gather stray socks as I headed to put in a load of laundry. It was then that I heard it. "SNAP!"
I thought, "that was a funny little sound, I wonder what it was?" After looking around for a moment, I was unable to identify the source of the noise and went on with the sock gathering (in hopes of pairing them back up later).
In it all went, socks, underwear, lingerie bag with my sports bra and my last, good, every day bra. I poured in the detergent, set the water temperature and went on my merry way for the next 35 minutes or so. When the load was done washing, I dutifully moved it to the drier with the exception of my bras. They got hung on hangers to dry on the door frame of my closet (classy, I know).
The next day I discovered the source of that mysterious little "SNAP!".
The underwire of my last, good, every day bra broke! Oh the tragedy of it all! Boo! Hiss! For most women this isn't the end of the world. You can trot on down to your local Vicky Seek and find a replacement. However, for us "well-endowed" women, no such luck. My size does not exist off the rack. It is something I have to purchase off the internets. Why did I allow myself to get down to my last, good, every day bra you ask? Because the good ones are so goshdarnfreakin EXPENSIVE. Seriously. I can hardly stomach LOOKING at a bra at that price, let alone BUY it! (cue feeling really sorry for me)
But alas, don't cry for me Argentina. I am embarking on a journey in a couple of weeks that will hopefully improve my bra situation. Fingers and toes are crossed. In the mean time, I am going to limp along with my broken underwire bra.
P.S. my journey does not include a doctor drawing on my naked chest or anesthetic.