I never thought I’d say it, but I miss my padded bras.
Yesterday, I took my son for a haircut and found myself in a salon full of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. There, I couldn’t get away from my reflection where I saw my flat chest, my sweater hanging off my body.
I’ve been going braless after numerous cancer surgeries for two breast cancers, one in 2011 and the other in 2016, but I believe it’s time to go back to prostheses (or something).
Clothes do look better when you’ve got bosoms, or fake ones. At least that’s how I feel today.
Christmas is in a few days. I’ve got beautiful clothes for the occasion, for parties, sipping martinis and eating shrimp cocktails and little meatballs. But no breasts.
I gave all my prostheses to the thrift store, where I’m sure someone bought them. People can buy anything at the thrift store.
Maybe I’ll find time to run up to Kohl’s and purchase a super duper padded bra. My taste in body style changes like it does out there in the world. For years, I preferred the Twiggy look, flat as a pancake. And then, poof, I desire the Marilyn Monroe shape. Are we ever happy?
The point is, getting breasts is not difficult.If I want them for an evening there are always socks, one pair in each side of a bra. Then, my dressy blouse will look timeless and lovely and my cashmere sweater will look fitting.
Remember the song “T*** and A**” (“Dance Ten, Looks Three”) from A Chorus Line? I will never have t*** again, but I can duplicate them on a dime.
This Christmas, breasts are trending in my circle.
I do not want to be the flat girl. The flat girl sits on the couch alone during the soiree, her arms folded across her chest. The flat girl does not mingle. She might drink one too many cocktails to loosen up or eat too many tidbits to forget her troubles.
Enter one pair of wool socks. The flat girl will forget their scratchiness for one evening and don them. Voila! She is a masterpiece.
Her husband will notice something is different, but he won’t quite be able to place what has changed about his beautiful wife. And then, his eyes will focus and center on her chest, and he’ll pull her toward him, hugging her body and laughing because it is indeed a lark. They are transported back decades to when they first met – all 140 pounds of her (before she gained that other 50). And she is cute.
The host will put a Christmas tune on – “All I Want for Christmas is You” – and everyone will dance, especially the woman who was once the flat girl but who is now the “it” girl. Dance, dance, dance the night away. This fantasy will go on until the wee hours of the morning, when the socks come out of the brassiere and the woman will scratch her chest where the wool once was.
Yes, it was a merry Christmas this year! All because of socks!
Fantasy of fantasy, all brought to you by wool socks!
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all no matter what your cup size is.
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