Sean mentions here that Sara Lee owns Playtex. While it is just a wee bit dastardly to promote a pencil-thin body image for women in your bra advertisements and then turn around and offer them a big ol’ cheesecake to eat, I don’t see a conflict of interests there. On the other hand, if Sara Lee starts selling diet pills under another name, let me know so I can have a fit about it.
It’s not Playtex I have a problem with, it’s bras in general.
I haven’t burned all of mine in protest, but I am mean to them and call them names sometimes. I’m skeptical about these “cup and a half”-sized bras being any more comfortable than any other bra I’ve worn, and I’ll tell you why.
A bra hinders the natural movement of a woman’s breasts. If a woman has large breasts, a bra puts a strain on her back*, because her weight is not distributed properly. Then, to add to the fun, some bras contain under-wires to poke her in front and clasps to poke her in the back.
Under-wires. How better to explain under-wires than to simply say that bra manufacturers are misogynists?
Under-wires are metal wires they sew into certain bras for the purpose of support. If you exchange the word “support” in my last sentence for the words “stabbing you in the chest,” the sentence becomes more accurate.
When a bra with an under-wire is washed, the stitching that holds the wire in it’s place becomes looser and looser. Then, when the woman who owns said torture device puts it on, the wire will remain properly in place only long enough for her to get somewhere very public and then poke her repeatedly and urgently until she can find a private place to remove the bra and/or rip the wire out of it.
The wire in the photo above worked its way out in exactly this fashion, but I pulled it out further to make it more visible in the picture. Seeing is believing.
So, is the difference in cup size going to change the bra as we know it? No. My guess is that bras will always will poke and pinch women just like the lecherous old man who grabs your ass as you walk by his table at McDonald’s.
The more I write, the more I see that a burning is the only answer here. The old man? Leave him out. Too much gristle. Just the bras. We have to show those bra companies that we’re mad as hell and we’re not going to take it. Who’s with me?
Who am I kidding? No one wants her boobs hanging around her ankles. Bras are a necessary evil – like Michael Bolton. You see, if we didn’t have Michael Bolton to compare it to, we’d never know what good music sounded like. Ok, that’s silly. Disregard that.
Anyway, I realize now that I should have used the word “boobies” more in this post. Sorry, guys.
Boobies. Boobies. Boobies.
*From my experience, exercise bras are a different matter altogether and are much more friendly in this area. They aren’t as flattering in that they press you in instead of pushing your ladies up and at attention, but they tend to be easy on the back.