Bra fitting

Last Saturday, Barbara convinced me to go for a bra fitting at Nordstrom.

She lured me in with the promise of the best Taiwanese dim sum at Din Tai Fung.

They have a Michelin star.

And boy was the food awesome!

I licked my plate clean, I swear.

But on to the bra fitting.

I went into a fitting room with Debbie, my Nordstom bra fitter.

I got topless.

She pulled out her measuring tape and measured me. . .

. . .  and declared me to be a 38G.

Holy shit!

G?!

I didn’t even know that boobs could grow that big, let alone that they make bras that big!

All along I thought I was a D.  Perhaps a double D.

But Barbara knew better.

Debbie proceeded to find me bras and helped me try them on.

Odd being topless around a fully clothed stranger, but okay. . .

In the end, I bought one bra.

For $100!

Apparently well sized bras for big boobs don’t come cheap.

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Fashion Trend Disaster: The Bralette

I don’t know who came up with the idea that it would be a great idea to give women bras to wear as tops without any other article of clothing and call it a BRALETTE, BUT I THINK IT WAS A MAN.

Actually, I’m POSITIVE it was a man.

Because what better way to get your rocks off than watch women run around in bralettes with ABSOLUTELY NO SUPPORT WHATSOEVER!

It’s INSANE!

Do I sound irritated, because I am?

I just did a search for “Burning Man” on Pinterest and at least 75% of the clothing that was listed was these stupid fucking non-bra bralettes.

I can’t wear a bralette.

I can barely find a bra that fits which is why I often stuff the kittens into too-small bras that make them look like muffins sitting on my chest.

I say I’m a D cup.

My friend Barbara begs to differ with me. She says I am AT LEAST A DD.

Regardless of how big my tatas are, one thing is for sure:

If you see me wearing a FUCKING BRALETTE, at least half my boobs will be hanging OUTSIDE the bralette.

OUTSIDE.

As in so much side boob you’ll swear you’re seeing nipple.

And so much underboob you’ll swear you’re going down on me.

I suppose what I’m truly ranting about is just simply getting older.

No one really wants to see a 43 year old woman wearing a bralette unless she’s a fitness model or a former Playboy bunny.

So consider yourself safe. I will not be walking around in a bralette at Burning Man.

Not in this lifetime.

I may be walking around naked, however.

Rant over.

 

 

After the rain. . .

The power was out in my house so I was sitting on the couch talking with Krush via the light of a lantern.

I confessed to him that I’m really feeling rainbows as a theme for this Burning Man.

After the rain (my shitty 2015 burn) there is always some sun (a good 2016 burn, hopefully) to make a rainbow.

The imagery is not lost on me.

So I’ve bought a rainbow light up tutu:

etsy7And I own a rainbow jumpsuit:

 

And I just bought some rainbow aviator sunglasses:

sunglassesI wanted Krush’s opinion on which backpack to buy – a pale furry drawstring backpack or a bright, vibrant furry backpack.

 

rainbow5 rainbow1

He laughed at me.

I’m not sure if he was laughing at the idea of me wearing rainbows or the absurdity of our dimly lit conversation.

But he selected the vibrant backpack. And so I bought it.

Trust me, I plan to wear regular clothes at Burning Man. And I plan to wear some other costumes at Burning Man.

But for me, the light at the end of my crappy 2015 tunnel is creating rainbows.

So I’m going to wear them.

And here’s some other stuff I’ve been eyeballing:

rainbow9 rainbow8
rainbow7 rainbow6
rainbow4 rainbow3