Help, My Underwire is Trying to Kill Me & Other Tales of Womanhood

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Pictorial representation of underwire

Let’s cut to the chase.
Bras are a huge deal for women, especially women who are a little chesty and can’t afford to go commando for fear of the ensuing awkward wobbling. Also, if you are the least bit sporty or lead an active lifestyle, those babies need to be caged, to stop them accidentally falling into someone’s soup or getting caught under your elbow when you lean over a desk…
We all know how it goes, average day at the office, droning through the chores of the day with an eye on the clock hanging on the far wall. Life is made up of similar days of drudgery and boredom from which you try to squeeze fun and laughter. You are engaged in a serious activity, explaining real grownup forms to a colleague, when you raise your arm and faaaaaacckkkk.
Your underwire has worked its way out its protective enclosure, and jabbed you right in the sensitive flesh of your underboob.

Let’s pause for a minute for all women reading this, so they can rub out the pain and stealthily push the errant underwire back in.
It is a conundrum, a typical catch 22, this bra problem. To wit:
– A wellfitting bra, a bra that sufficiently raises up the boobs and supports them as they face their day, such a bra NEEDS to have underwire. The underwire is the backbone, the basic architectural structure of any vivacious brasserie.
– Underwire is a dangerous thing, and is only there to cause bodily harm or poke out from your neckline when you are in public. Pull it out before it embarrasses you!
– If you remove the underwire, your breasts become depressed, devoid of perkiness and a “shoulder” to lean on. A wellfitting bra, a bra that sufficiently raises up the boobs NEEDS to have underwire…
So, you see where I’m going with this.
It is at these times that I look at women who do not need to wear bras and do the slow clap in awe of their freedom… Then again, I kind of love that I have boobs and I don’t want them smaller. Another catch 22; no compromise anywhere in sight.
On some level, this is a metaphor for my love life, or life in general; too little raises up a lot of doubts and too much makes me want to get it off.

Ciao, bellas.
@MsMeddle

P.S.
Nobody should even try to give me grief about how lazy I’ve become here; I’ll do something drastic 😭

P.P.S.
Hope you had a lovely Christmas. I wish you a magical 2017. Catch unicorns, guys 🙂

P.P.P.S.
I’ve had this saved in my Drafts for so long, I forgot what it was supposed to be about. Forgive me plix.

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