The Demi Gods Must Be Crazy.

There is a pathetic truth about me that no one except my husband knows.  I own granny panties.  Years ago I was a thong-girl.  I wore them all the time.  I shouted their virtues from the mountain top.  Sometime in the last 7 years I lost that girl.  My underwear got bigger with every passing year.  Bikini bottoms turned into high cut brief and sadly now I look at the majority of my underwear and realize, they have seen better days.  Bras too.  After my BR (breast reduction for you small breasted out there) I swore up and down I would never wear an institutional white big strapped bra every again.  Well that fell by the way side as well.   So the other day when my beloved spouse made a comment about how I used to adorn my body I took note.  What happened? Why do I care so little?  Was I just dressing in fancy lingerie for others (of which there were many dear mother-in-law reading my blog THOUSANDS tee hee hee) or did I really like the way it made me feel?   What about trapping a poor defenseless member of the male species made me stop trying? Again, mother-in-law if you get to go on a fancy trip half way around the world and stop to read my blog at some cute internet cafe in Germany I get to taunt you from across the ocean.   Do the extra pounds make me feel less sexy or do I feel less sexy and then put on extra pounds?  Oh the drama.  I decided that enough was enough!  I marched myself down to the local lingerie store (I’m not naming them because the service was soooo bad that it’s a blog post all of its own) and tried on a multitude of bras.  Unfortunately the have different sizing for each style of bra.  I had to rummage to find about 12 bras and then navigate a table of cottons bras that I found interesting.  I finally found one I thought fit well and took my purchase to the till (again bad service, stupid sale person).  The next day I put on my new bra happy in the believe that I am once again a sex pot. Albeit a sex pot with granny panties because I couldn’t find a pair I liked.

I started my new “fancy bras only” lifestyle the next day.  I reached down to hug my children good bye and my nipple popped out.  Well that’s odd I thought to myself, I must have to tuck my nipples in when I put this on, I’m sure it won’t happen again.  Then I had to put on my shoes, again out comes the boob.  It is then I realized that the down side of the demi or (1/2 bra) is that it is HALF A FUCKIN BRA!  What a bizarre invention!  Sure I look locked and loaded if I stand looking at myself in the mirror.  I am perky as a 20 year old as long as I don’t wave, stretch, bend, cough, eat, drive or breath.  This is ridiculous.  I refuse to be sexy if this is the price.  I am going back to the worn gray sadly depressed Jockey bra that was at least faithful to my boobage.  I suppose there might be a happy medium and with a little hard work and a willing spirit maybe someday I’ll find my bra utopia.  I’ll start next week.