This is primarily aimed at the distaff side of the population – although it wouldn’t hurt the male of the species to read it, or a similar essay, before charging off to Victoria’s Secrets with lust in their eyes and no idea of size.
But I digress.
What a daily conundrum it is.
Let’s see if we can unwind it a bit.
The brassiere. Nature’s way of reminding us that being a woman sucks. If you are possessed of a small, pert bosom ignore the next couple of paragraphs they probably don’t apply. But for the rest of us there is always the brassiere dilemma.
To wear. Or not.
Underwires. Or not.
Padding. Or not.
Front fastening. Rear fastening. Climb in.
There are too many choices and most are lousy. So let’s dig down to the best advice there is – that of an old woman who has tried the effing lot.
If you can get away with it, don’t wear a bra – they are the inventions of Satan.
If you have to immolate yourself because you need to for comfort and to avoid having pendulums swinging over your stomach, get measured properly and buy the best you can afford. With a bit of luck you will avoid shoulder ruts and undertit pinches. Good luck.
Having disposed of the bustenhalter let us take a passing slap at leg coverings.
*sighs and lights ciggy*
In an ideal world we would all wear trousers. All of the time. Long trousers in winter and maybe a little shorter in warm weather. But the world is not ideal, and women wear skirts. Why is beyond my comprehension. However, it is a fact and it needs to be dealt with.
In the summer you may be tempted to go for the bare-legged look. This is fine and very comfortable. But. If your legs are neon white and look like some child has been drawing on them with a blue biro it may be kinder to the rest of the world to slap on a bit of fake tan before venturing out. Or not if you really don’t care.
For more formal occasions there are the horrors of delicate fine tights, or, even worse, stockings and suspenders. Don’t do either. The tights will either crawl up your bum crack or droop into concertina like folds. And it goes without saying that one leg will be twisted – giving your walk something of the air of Quasimodo on a night out. Does that leave us with the huge physical and mental discomfort of stockings and suspenders* as our only option, do I hear you cry? No. If you really have to look like a member of the royal family on a walkabout get a pair of hold-ups with a decently wide elastic top and hope for the best.
*Hint. If you must wear these godawful things the suspenders straps go inside your knickers (not how it is depicted on the front of your/his favourite soft porno). Get this wrong and you will be unable to drop your pants to piss.
An aside here is those items of underwear that claim to slim you that’s anything from corsets to control knickers. They. Do. Not. Work. All they do is shift unwanted flesh from A to B or C. That roll around your waist will just be pushed up above your foundation garment in such a way as to make you appear to have grown an extra pair of breasts. If you care about being fat lose weight.
And finally. Knickers, or panties as our colonial cousins call them. You’re on your own here. I have only one piece of wisdom to impart. Thongs…
Life is tough enough without a piece of cheese wire between the cheeks of your ass.