A couple weeks back, my Beloved and I were emptying some items from the back of my car. I was in front of him, and he remarked offhandedly: “You should probably invest in a bra that fits.” I was too busy with other things to waste time being upset by his observation, but in the ensuing days, the remark has resurfaced in my memory.
Truth be told, once I looked in the mirror (from the possible angle he would have had), I had to cede his point. My Victoria’s Secret undergarment covered (and supported) the requisite areas, but there was no denying the unattractive bulges. (How would I know? When do I look at myself from the back side?)
The words “disgusting tub of lard (DTOL)” are hardly complimentary for anyone, least of all when one thinks of one’s self. While I don’t fill my chair like the cartoon woman above, my bra is (admittedly) almost as poorly fitted. Further, I acknowledge my problem isn’t just the result of a poorly fitting undergarment. Some aggressive personal action is in order: regular exercise, better eating habits, etc. (No, I’m not considering liposuction or a backlift … never heard of that before, but apparently it’s a popular option.) Continue Reading →