Adventures in bra shopping

After we left the football game on Sunday, Mike and I headed over to the mall to check out the Colts Pro Shop and to give the crowds a chance to get out of the parking garage. No great deals there, so we decided to walk around a bit.

On our way to the Food Court (no big surprise there, huh?), we passed the Lane Bryant store. I told Mike I wanted to go in and just look around. Being more of a clothes horse than I am, he agreed.

As is my usual custom, I looked at a few things at the front of the store before heading back to the clearance racks where I found a jacket and a cool v-neck blouse with an empire waist. I took both to the dressing room to give them a try.

Once I had the blouse on, I opened the door to ask Mike's opinion. He liked it, but I wanted to hear that from someone who isn't bound by wedding vows to say nice things. So I called the saleslady over to ask her opinion. (I wish I knew her name, but I don't. So let's just call her Maggie.)

Maggie took one look and said, "You can do it but you need a really supportive bra to make it work."

That one statement set in motion an undergarment quest that lasted for another 45 minutes. I knew she was right. The bra I was wearing that day was formerly an underwire -- I'd pulled the wires out with pliers when they broke and started to draw blood -- and didn't exactly keep the girls standing at attention.

So Maggie brought me two options. The first was your standard run-of-the mill underwire bra. The second was a "plunge" style which seemed almost scandalous to me despite it's neutral color.

I tried the plunge on first, threw a sweater on over it and stepped out of the dressing room. It took Maggie all of 5 seconds to locate what she termed "some poppage" and to declare I needed the next size up.

She brought the new one and handed it to me with instructions to "lean forward, pull the fleshy part and jiggle."

Now I am a grown woman and have been wearing bras for longer than I have not. But I just started giggling at the thought of shaking and shimmying my girls into place. The fact that Mike was sitting patiently on the other side of the door listening to the entire conversation made me laugh even more.

Appropriately shaken (not stirred), I pulled on the sweater again and stepped out for review. The new site of my chest gave Maggie one more idea which involved an inflatable pouch to help balance the underachieving side of my chest.

I am not a small-busted woman. Never in my life would I have considered the possibility of stuffing my bra with a pocket of air. But when I emerged once again from the dressing room for approval, Mike noticed the difference immediately and even said I looked thinner in this new bra.

Sold! and I'll take one in every color!

So for those of you who know me in real life, the next time you see me, don't feel the need to say anything, but be sure to take note of my new -- uplifted -- profile. And don't hug me too tight because I just might pop.