All it took was a blue bra.......

It's the small things. No, I'm not referring to my breast size. They are just fine...thank you. They've weathered almost 50 years of doing what they do as A cups, B cups and C cups. They are showing their age a little....not as much as other parts of me. They were never big enough to droop even though I had a period of time in my teens when I wish they would have. They emerged unscathed from the bra burning era and the braless years and the "gee I wish they were bigger" time frame. They made it past dates with roaming hands, a baby trying to nurse and being pushed into a machine. They are troopers, these breasts of mine. But...I'll be honest...just like the rest of my body...they look so much better when they are dressed up.

I've always loved lingerie. Bras and undies especially. In my leaner years, my collection of bras would have made Victoria spill her secrets. But, as I morphed into a plus size gal, my pretty bras got shoved to the back of my lingerie armoire--never to be seen again. I didn't even bother to take them out to gaze upon them. It was just too painful. Instead, I busied myself trying to replenish my bra wardrobe with ones that would #1--fit and #2--not look as if I inherited them from my grandmother. What I ended up with was a respectable supply of black, beige and white non-descript bras. Not my grandmother's. But, definitely not the kind of bras that the girl that lived inside of me would wear. Yes, I guess I could have went to stores that catered to the plus size vamp. But, for some reason, I couldn't find the gumption to walk into a store that has a rubinesque mannequin wearing black thigh-hi fishnets, a red garter belt and a red satin bustier in the window. Trust me, I'm not a prude by any means. I can be as vampy as that trollop in the window. But...well...I just couldn't do it. I'm an SUV-driving wife and mother from the suburbs who grows award winning basil,who tends a butterfly garden and who has china service for 24...you know what I mean?

Last week, as I was rummaging through my lingerie looking for a specific pair of p.j's (ones that would go oh so nicely with my new robe), I spotted a baby blue bra strap. Right there behind an old half slip (does anyone wear those anymore?). As I yanked it out, I noticed that it still had it's tags on it. A sweet baby blue bra with the cutest little pink bow and soft lace inserts...with tags on it. And, it was no cheap bra. It wasn't even on sale! Given that...it could mean only one of two things. #1--I bought it while on an extremely optimistic diet plan or #2--it fit me on the day and I bought it and then didn't fit the next week when I went to put it on. Both scenarios were completely possible...trust me. I fiddled with it and held it up--looking at it as you do when you're trying to remember where the hell it came from. It was just so pretty. I could imagine that I fell in love with it the minute I saw it....oh those many years ago. Yet, I couldn't remember even buying it. I mean, let's face it--I had to love that bra if I paid that much for it! Maybe it was meant for a certain outfit. Or, perhaps I bought it for a special occasion or maybe I was saving it for just that right moment. Whatever it was....I don't remember. Perhaps I blocked it from my memory or maybe it was just one of those things that got wiped out by the everyday grind. I shrugged my shoulders, put the bra on my dressing table chair and went back to searching for the p.j.s. Afterall...I was eager to put on my jammies with my robe, gather up my magazines, plump up some pillows, light some candles, make some hot chocolate and spend some quality time relaxing! Which is what I did. With no thoughts of my blue bra.

Soon, however, that bra haunted me...what did I buy that adorable blue bra for? And, why didn't I ever wear it? I mean, I just couldn't shake the feeling that the blue bra was bought with something important in mind. And, as my mind began to wander, I conjured up several scenarios. All them ended badly....each with some version of me discovering that I no longer fit into my new blue bra and then, ravished by tears, I pushed it so far back into my cabinet as to hide the pain. No happily ever afters. Yes, I know, I can think up quite dramatic things. I am not sure if any of that happened or not. But, in my mind, I imagined that it did! Even now--I still think it may have! There were so many episodes such as that over the years as my body ballooned to epic proportions in a short period of time. So, last night, I marched upstairs---determined to get my blue bra mojo back. I figured if I put it on, the feelings might come flooding back. It didn't happen. But, what did happen is this---that blue bra fit me. I might not remember why I bought it the first time around. But, I sure do know what I'm going to do with it now.

Yes, friends....I'm going on a road trip.....me and my BLUE BRA.....




See ya next week!!!!