Good morning!
I did oversleep a bit but considering that I stayed up until the birds started chirping, it wasn't all that late. I slept for a tad under 4 hours but I'm hoping that when I finish this coffee (Starbucks Extra Bold Sumatra...it was only 6 something instead of the usual 10 bucks at Starbucks, still too much but it IS good coffee.) I'll be wide awake. We'll see.
I have a few errands to run so I guess I have to shower and primp although there's little that I hate more. Remember, if any of you ladies want to burn your mascara and the rest of your make-up...I'm with ya! I don't know why those chicks in the 60's and 70's were so angry at their bras...we NEED them. But make-up SUCKS and we don't need that. I don't know why women didn't just burn the Estee Lauder crap. Burning bras were just good for the men...burning make-up is only good for us...let the men look at our unmade-up faces for a while.
Even burning high heels would make more sense then burning bras. But I guess most women don't lose their urge to look good for men, no matter how angry they are over their own civil rights. How else could you explain the bra burning? What was the point? They were uncomfortable? Sure they were...so just adjust the strap and go on about your business. They were burning bras about the same time I got my very FIRST bra so I never burned mine.
I was too proud of that bra and I had waited too long to wear one of them. Of course, I didn't want anyone else to know about it at the time. But, my father...never the most tactful person in a room, gave me a hug and noticed the bra. He asked out loud, "Well, what have we here?" I wanted to die. Anyway, I was just glad to HAVE a bra...I didn't want anyone else to see it.
My first bra was a "training bra". What the hell does that mean? What are my boobs training for? Are they supposed to be trained to point upward? Well, it didn't work. That training bra was nothing but a strap with two arm holes and two triangles made out of stretchy material. It had room for me to grow...nipples that is, if they didn't get too big.
I remember a few of my bras from my early bra wearing days...for some reason I had 2 yellow bras. Those aren't too bad if you dress properly. I dressed quite properly, my bra was not only yellow...it had a piece of orange yarn holding the arm strap to the left cup. It never occurred to me when I accepted an offer to "take a walk" with my "boyfriend" that he might want to see my bra. No one had ever seen it but me until that point. A boyfriend in those days was the guy who carried your books and kissed you outside of your locker. If he had an ID bracelet, you got to wear that until you broke up.
In 1972, I went for a walk with Joe A. We ended up taking a "shortcut" through the woods. He wanted to rest so we sat down and that's when it happened. Joe laid me down and kissed me. Then he lifted my shirt up to get a peek at my boobs. The laugh was on him. There's nothing sexy about a yellow bra held together by orange yarn. I was SOOOOO embarrassed and angry that I just got up and ran home. I never spoke of it again and he must not have told anyone either...if he had, I'm sure someone would have shouted down the school halls, "Margie, what color yarn is holding your tit-sling on today?"
Nowadays I don't have to depend on my parents for my bras. There are certain things that I simply HATE to pay for. One of them is a purse and one is a bra. I absolutely cannot abide spending more than 8 bucks on one of them. I never spent more than that on a bra for well over 35 years.
One year my daughter took me to Victoria's Secret and bought me a decent bra that I really, really liked. So, I've bought my bras there ever since. The difference they make in your total appearance is worth the extra money that you pay. I still don't ENJOY spending that much cash on bra...but I know WHY I'm doing it. I don't have a clue why my daughter spends her cash on Pantene...but I understand the expensive bras.
I never stuffed my bras...well, not with toilet paper anyway. For some reason...I haven't a clue why...I decided to "impress" my babysitter with a couple of huge knockers. I had quite the plan. I put on one of my mother's bras and then I stuck...get this...potatoes in each cup. I know, I know...potatoes? I don't know why I did that. I was probably 10, give or take a year. As stupid as that stunt was, I would think that I was younger but to even consider stuffing a bra with a couple of spuds is something only a kid approaching puberty would think of so I had to be a bit older than 8.
I sashayed my little ass past the sitter and the moment that I passed directly in front of her...one of the potatoes fell out. That was nice. What could I do? I picked up the tater and went to my room.
I did buy a push up bra once but I'm not the sort to have my boobs falling out of my top. I'd be too self conscious to wear one of those. But a decent padded bra would be cool...sort of like potatoes that work.
Well, I'm bra-less now and as I said, I have a couple of things to do. The nub of it (Opportunity Knocks) is that it'll take me as long to get ready as will a couple of the errands that I'm running. Poo.
:)
I did oversleep a bit but considering that I stayed up until the birds started chirping, it wasn't all that late. I slept for a tad under 4 hours but I'm hoping that when I finish this coffee (Starbucks Extra Bold Sumatra...it was only 6 something instead of the usual 10 bucks at Starbucks, still too much but it IS good coffee.) I'll be wide awake. We'll see.
I have a few errands to run so I guess I have to shower and primp although there's little that I hate more. Remember, if any of you ladies want to burn your mascara and the rest of your make-up...I'm with ya! I don't know why those chicks in the 60's and 70's were so angry at their bras...we NEED them. But make-up SUCKS and we don't need that. I don't know why women didn't just burn the Estee Lauder crap. Burning bras were just good for the men...burning make-up is only good for us...let the men look at our unmade-up faces for a while.
Even burning high heels would make more sense then burning bras. But I guess most women don't lose their urge to look good for men, no matter how angry they are over their own civil rights. How else could you explain the bra burning? What was the point? They were uncomfortable? Sure they were...so just adjust the strap and go on about your business. They were burning bras about the same time I got my very FIRST bra so I never burned mine.
I was too proud of that bra and I had waited too long to wear one of them. Of course, I didn't want anyone else to know about it at the time. But, my father...never the most tactful person in a room, gave me a hug and noticed the bra. He asked out loud, "Well, what have we here?" I wanted to die. Anyway, I was just glad to HAVE a bra...I didn't want anyone else to see it.
My first bra was a "training bra". What the hell does that mean? What are my boobs training for? Are they supposed to be trained to point upward? Well, it didn't work. That training bra was nothing but a strap with two arm holes and two triangles made out of stretchy material. It had room for me to grow...nipples that is, if they didn't get too big.
I remember a few of my bras from my early bra wearing days...for some reason I had 2 yellow bras. Those aren't too bad if you dress properly. I dressed quite properly, my bra was not only yellow...it had a piece of orange yarn holding the arm strap to the left cup. It never occurred to me when I accepted an offer to "take a walk" with my "boyfriend" that he might want to see my bra. No one had ever seen it but me until that point. A boyfriend in those days was the guy who carried your books and kissed you outside of your locker. If he had an ID bracelet, you got to wear that until you broke up.
In 1972, I went for a walk with Joe A. We ended up taking a "shortcut" through the woods. He wanted to rest so we sat down and that's when it happened. Joe laid me down and kissed me. Then he lifted my shirt up to get a peek at my boobs. The laugh was on him. There's nothing sexy about a yellow bra held together by orange yarn. I was SOOOOO embarrassed and angry that I just got up and ran home. I never spoke of it again and he must not have told anyone either...if he had, I'm sure someone would have shouted down the school halls, "Margie, what color yarn is holding your tit-sling on today?"
Nowadays I don't have to depend on my parents for my bras. There are certain things that I simply HATE to pay for. One of them is a purse and one is a bra. I absolutely cannot abide spending more than 8 bucks on one of them. I never spent more than that on a bra for well over 35 years.
One year my daughter took me to Victoria's Secret and bought me a decent bra that I really, really liked. So, I've bought my bras there ever since. The difference they make in your total appearance is worth the extra money that you pay. I still don't ENJOY spending that much cash on bra...but I know WHY I'm doing it. I don't have a clue why my daughter spends her cash on Pantene...but I understand the expensive bras.
I never stuffed my bras...well, not with toilet paper anyway. For some reason...I haven't a clue why...I decided to "impress" my babysitter with a couple of huge knockers. I had quite the plan. I put on one of my mother's bras and then I stuck...get this...potatoes in each cup. I know, I know...potatoes? I don't know why I did that. I was probably 10, give or take a year. As stupid as that stunt was, I would think that I was younger but to even consider stuffing a bra with a couple of spuds is something only a kid approaching puberty would think of so I had to be a bit older than 8.
I sashayed my little ass past the sitter and the moment that I passed directly in front of her...one of the potatoes fell out. That was nice. What could I do? I picked up the tater and went to my room.
I did buy a push up bra once but I'm not the sort to have my boobs falling out of my top. I'd be too self conscious to wear one of those. But a decent padded bra would be cool...sort of like potatoes that work.
Well, I'm bra-less now and as I said, I have a couple of things to do. The nub of it (Opportunity Knocks) is that it'll take me as long to get ready as will a couple of the errands that I'm running. Poo.
:)
posted by Meg Kelso | 7:23 AM
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