The Bra That Tried to Kill Me

The Bra That Tried to Kill Me

At first it seemed like the one for me. It had cushy straps that seemed wide enough not to sever my shoulders. It had thick underwires strong enough for a space shuttle (but made for a woman... ).

It wasn't very pretty, though, a characteristic that many of the "big" ones share. I wanted a pretty bra even though my husband's opinion on bras is: "It's what's inside that counts".

What I think is the perfect bra makes me feel supported, and I even looked a little thinner with everything in its place. I took it really well, hang to dry as instructed on the care tag.

Then something happened. It started out as just a small poke in the side, just under the arm. I ignored it at first, thinking I could just adjust. Every time I washed and wear it, I will retract the wire in the more distant, the hole is getting bigger every time.

Finally, I was simultaneously being stabbed in the ribs and in the armpit with a mischievous piece of underwire. I struggled with it, but pieces of lingerie permeated the last load, my ribs and armpits dare to defend themselves.

Every day we read about new scientific discoveries. Scientists have sent men into space. The new drug is designed to treat a number of disorders and diseases. Whenever a new drug is released in the market, we see ads end with the narrator's voice said light-through his teeth that their medicine "can lead to ..." and then quickly rattles of a list of scary side effects, it seems everything from high blood pressure for the stigmata!

There is a brilliant engineer who built bridges and overpasses sophisticated, roller coaster, a complex piece of machinery, and large buildings able to withstand earthquakes!

Why does no one was able to develop the perfect bra? I know there is a brilliant female engineers out there who have been waking up in the morning, put the kids in their place, and thought "there must be a better way!".

Make no mistake, I am very grateful for modern scientific discoveries! And I'm not suggesting that the breast support is as important as cure. But if the bright minds can come up with a small blue pill we all know about thanks to ads that are not too ambiguous (side by side bathtubs and so on) -then why can not someone looking for a way to keep the girls in place without breaking your back, denting your shoulder, caught everything else in the wash, or trying to kill us? And, if it's not too much trouble, could someone at least make some of them were enough for us at the higher end of the graph cup?

I am pleased to say that, in the end, I beat bra terror. I use a small worn areas themselves against it and pluck out the right killer underwire! (Why WS underwire so sharp? Who would think to run over sharpening stone before placing the clothes in some poor, unsuspecting woman's?).

This is not the same, not quite as supportive. But at least I can wear them without fear of a punctured lung and had to explain it to people both in the ER.