Let’s face it. At the age of 48, after birthing and breastfeeding two kids who are now teenagers, along with the effects of gravity, my boobs could use some help. When I take off my bra, my boobs do a nose dive, right down to my waist. It doesn’t help that, since 11th grade, I’ve been sporting a pretty decent sized rack.
When I was going through my divorce, smoking cigarettes and running every day, I was a good sized 34 C. Twelve years later, I’m twenty pounds heavier because, after quitting smoking and going back to work, who the hell could maintain a weight of 109 pounds. Not to mention that for the last eight years, I’ve been married to a man who cooks for a living and feeds me for fun.
I am now a solid 34 D.
I’ve always done okay with bras. I’ve been wearing the same Victoria Secret’s line for years though they keep changing the name on me. My bras hold the girls up where they should be and give me a nice round-ish shape. So I never thought about venturing elsewhere.
Last weekend, when I was at my college girlfriend’s wedding, a bunch of us were in her bedroom during the after-party. She was changing out of her wedding gown in to this cute little sexy sparkly dress. And she had to change her bra. She started going on about this place on Manhattan’s Lower East Side where she got fitted for new bras. It wasn’t a fancy place but the woman sized her up and gave her a few choices. And the bras weren’t that expensive and they gave her such a great shape and so on.
But the proof was in the look. She looked good. Her girls looked good. Another friend tried the bra on and bam, it made a huge difference for her too. Her figure was more defined. Nice.
(We’ve been seeing each other’s boobs since 1983. So this whole exchange just seemed normal. During this time, I also peed with the bathroom door open so I wouldn’t miss any of the conversation. Do other women our age do this?)
In both cases, the bra held them up and shaped them in a most attractive way. No uniboob for them. Their breasts were neither too high nor too low. And the bra was sexy to boot.
I want to look like that. So I’m going to get new bras but I’m not going to get them down here in South Florida because I want to go to the Lower East Side bra whisperer. Plus, it’ll give me an excuse to go back up to NYC and visit my friend.
Until then, I’ll keep tightening up the straps on my current bras.
My advice to you is to ask around and find a good fitter where you live. Something like this is best left to the experts. Trust me. It will make a world of difference for you and your boobs.
Have you ever been professionally fitted for a bra before?
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