I have little need of criss-cross, halter-backed, pad them out, hold-them-up (ok maybe, that one) bras. I don’t vary style enough in my clothing to keep a drawerful of multi-faceted lingerie. I do have……well, I’ll not go there. Suffice to say, there is a more than adequate amount and variety for my needs. (And his).
I hang bras out on the washing line and wonder if anyone else wonders, as they gaze at the array, ‘What the hell gives in that house?’
Pinks, purples, blacks, yellows, multi-coloureds, whites, push-up, hold-in, spread-them-out, cross-your-heart, fuller-figured, bust-diminishing wonders of the brassiere (what a horrible word!) world.
And not one bloody cup or back size the same.
Any daring attempt on my part to sport a new look necessitates a visit to measure and mount merchandises inc.. Or, the local Asda, if I’m honest. Wear it once.
Maybe twice, if I got away with it the first time.
You’d think, with so many dames, there would be no need to stuff your bra or squeeze them in.
Don’t get me started on the assortment of knickers!