Oh, body image. Something I tend to not write about here very often. I kind of avoid a lot of thinking about my body at the same time that I overthink everything about my body.
I got rid of our scale years ago. I either fit well into my clothes or I don’t.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, I am totally caught up in the numbers of clothing sizes. Yes, even when I know there is nothing resembling standardization as far as sizing goes. (What exactly does a size 8 or a size 14 or a size 22 mean anyhow?) Yes, even when I know I should not be judging myself based on the number on the tag on my pants or shirt or dress.
I’m focusing as well I can on trying to be healthy. I’m not always successful as I’m definitely an emotional eater and I don’t crave spinach and squash and black beans when I’m stressed or low. Yet, I’m still directing my focus in this direction.
I’m also focusing on how grateful I am that I have a body that allows me to do all it allows me to do. We went to Yosemite on Wednesday and hiked and scrambled around on rocks and my body did pretty well. I made a point of thanking my body for carrying me through those hours.
All that being said, I have been fervently mulling over one specific area of my body for the last several days. One specific measurement: bra size.
About three or so years ago, I thought that my bra-buying woes had ended when a friend suggested I shop Cacique. One of the employees told me they wouldn’t have anything that fit me, but she measured me and I found something that I figured worked well enough. A year and a half ago, I went back and bought a bunch more bras. They seemed okay. I was excited to have them. I really didn’t see that I had any other options (it’s been almost a decade since I’ve been able to buy Victoria’s Secret bras and I no longer have access to Frederick’s of Hollywood where I used to be able to find bras I liked).
Anyhow, for longer than I’d like to admit, my bras have not fit properly. Yes, part of this is that I have had the same five bras for a year and a half. But my bras getting old and stretched out isn’t the problem. The problem is that the cups just aren’t adequate. My cups, they overflow…eth. Ugh.
So when my dear friend pinned “Do It Now: A Guide to Proper Bra Fit and Measuring…,” I read it with great interest. I already know I’m one of those eighty-or-so percent of people in the wrong size bra. So I read the post and I watched a video the writer linked to and well, let’s just say that I am certainly not wearing the right size bra.
I measured twice – once on my own and once with help – just to be sure. I know that the results I’ve gotten are just a starting point, but it’s kind of ridiculous how far off my current bras are.
And I’m not sure that I want to accept this fact because it means that I’ve definitely entered the realm of special ordering bras and that does not appeal to my shopping-averse self.
Regardless of my hesitation, I’ve begun to browse the sites listed on both of the resources I linked to up there. I’d rather just avoid the whole deal, but I am really uncomfortable in my ill-fitting bras and I would very much like to abolish the overflow.
I keep telling myself that it’s only partly my body and mainly an industry of mass marketed clothing that just does not suit me.
So, enough of the oversharing? (And vague undersharing all at the same time?) Any good lingerie shops I should visit in Northern or Southern Nevada or Southern California? Any really reliable online stores that won’t charge me a million dollars for trying stuff on and sending it back if it doesn’t fit?
Thanks in advance for you thoughts (which can be sent via email if you’d rather not share so publicly: firstname.lastname@example.org).