Last night I decided to try one of the bras I picked up from Victoria’s Secret overnight and I had the worst case of pain I have felt since my initial surgery on September 10th of last year. There was no way I could endure that kind of constriction and have the type of circulation needed to heal my brand new boobies, so at 2:15 am I came peeling out of that bra faster than a two bit whore in a gold rush city back in the 1800s. Sorry, not sorry, that I insulted any two bit whores out there, but I had to get out of that thing fast or I was going to have to cut the bitch off me.
“FUCK YOU Victoria’s Secret!” was racing through my mind the whole time I was struggling to peel that fucking she-beast of a bra off of me.
Just when I thought I found the perfect bra, it goes and wakes me up at the ass crack of fuck you in the morning feeling like I was being constricted by an anaconda. Apparently VS does not make a compression bra that fits a 38C, the best option was going with a 36D which caused all of my problems. The worst was dealing with the 3 hours of arm pain after I finally got the damn thing off of me.
I packed away the three bras that I brought home to try out and decided to try again with Under Armour this time when I took my lunch today. For the longest time I swore I would never buy into another bullshit ass company swearing they were the god’s of athletic wear, and I made myself promise that I would not buy into the hype that was being pushed by Under Armour. BOY WAS I WRONG!
Not only were the sales associates on the floor helpful, I nearly brought two of them to tears when I briefly spoke about what I was needing and why. I was becoming a pro at keeping the story short and sweet yet still getting that bit of sympathy from the sales person. It’s not that I want the sympathy, but it makes that person seem more eager to help you when they know what the reason is for your appearance at their store today.
After spending less than 10 minutes on the sales floor, I was whisked away to a fitting room to try on a couple of beauties to see I they would fit.
I thought I was going to faint.
“HOLY SHIT! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”
I proceeded to do the happy dance while pulling off the first bra I tried while grabbing the second option I was handed.
“ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!”
Under Armour had sucked me in before I could resist them. The lovely feel of the material, the support they give, and the fact that I did not feel like I was ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag was delicious. Yes I said DELICIOUS.
If you have never experienced a bra that made you feel supported and all together then you need to go out and try on as many bras as you can until you find that one. Each day I will go out and try on clothes or bras and look at it as if it were a whole new experience. I will try to stay positive, not only for my own sanity, but for the fact that I want others to see me more as the survivor than a victim.
I admit that I am an ass for not asking for the names of the girls that helped me, but seeing as I work very close to their flagship location, at 600 N. Michigan Avenue, it will be easy for me to pop in and get names to write a glowing review of their help and sincerity. I think UA is actually starting to grow on me, however, do not expect to find me freely advertising their clothing as I will be sticking to just the bras.
Let’s see how this evening’s trial will go before I fully stick my foot in my mouth and have to recant my love for these two new bras.
And as for you Victoria’s Secret, I will look back fondly on our previous love affair, but sadly it has finally come to a close. Seriously, I had over 50 of their Very Sexy bras that I donated about half of to BRA Day last year.
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