Deb pointed me to this story on the impossible business of finding a bra that fits, something you wouldn’t think would be such a big hairy deal, but is, particularly when you get into the larger sizes.
As any man can tell you, every woman is different, and we’re accustomed since birth to telling outselves the problem is not with the garment, but with our bodies, which are too… something. The absurdity of this thinking is pointed out in Jessica Siegel’s story:
The fitter brought out six under-wire models bearing cups big enough to serve a grande latte – 34DD’s and E’s (in some styles, they’re the same size. Who knew?) Most gaped on me. Several fit, but the wires pinched my diaphragm. The fitter’s diagnosis: “It’s because your breasts are too low on your chest.”
“You mean they’re sagging?” I asked.
No, she said, they just sprout lower on your ribs than “normal.” Finally, a lacy Chantelle felt good in front, but the cup rode too high on the side, cutting into my armpit. Her new verdict: “You’re too short-waisted.” More frustrating try-ons provoked the final blow: “Your breasts are uneven. . . . Eeek!”
Her running critique of my body was the patter of someone who believes (or wants you to believe) that the fault lies not in the bra, but in you. I got the same drill from four fitters and two bra designers I spoke with, who all spun their own theories, including, “It doesn’t scratch, you only think it scratches,” and my personal favorite: “Your ribs are in the wrong place.”