Of Bralettes

Posted on by thehiams

I’ve seen Iskra Lawrence posing in bralettes and reading about her cause for #bodypositivity . Iskra is like my goddess role model. She’s beautiful, smart and above all – confident in her skin.

I’ve been pondering whether I should purchase Aerie’s bralette. I’ve been sitting on it sooooo much, that I didn’t get around to doing it. Maybe the rude discovery of how filmsy a non-lined bralette is, aided in the decision to sit on it longer.

Then came my BKK trip in December 2016. Whilst my cute friend A, ventured into a local lingerie store to buy safety shorts, I went in to take a look as well. I was skeptical of everything I saw in the store, because I knew I was different from the standard thailand girl size, or the standard singaporean size. Past experiences tells me that…I won’t fit into anything here.

Then, something in the far corner caught my eye. It’s a bralette with front straps and IT’S LINED!  AND IT HAS ELASTIC BAND! After enquiring with the owner who confidently told me that I’m able to fit in this, I happily enthusiastically desperately asked for it in 2 different colors, paid and stuffed them in my bag.

Alas! When I got home to try it on. It was a nightmare. It was a struggle to put on the bralette (PLEASE REMEMBER THAT ELASTIC BAND ALSO DO HAVE LIMITS – THERE’S NO INFINITY STRETCH OPTION AVAILABLE). For a good minute I panicked, and I kept thinking what if I got stuck and people who save me will see me stuck precariously in this piece of lingerie. After convincing myself that I would not allow this to happen, I finally gathered my shit and shoved the lingerie in place. That’s right, SHOVED. I stared myself in the mirror and marvelled over the fact that:

  1. WHY SO SMALL AH
  2. SO TIGHT. OH YAS TOO SMALL.
  3. OMG THE TRIANGLES ARE TOO SMALL
  4. MY BOOBS ARE SQUISHED FLAT AND NOW LOOKS LONGITUDINAL
  5. I FEEL STUPID
  6. I KINDA RESEMBLE A BAZHANG (RICE DUMPLING) with all the different lines tying up my meat together

This nightmare did not end here. What has been put on, must be taken off. Wrestling with that piece of lingerie ensues, and I emerged victorious (else i would have appeared on the headlines the next day).

I sneakily banished this lingerie of shame in the dark corner of my closet – never to see the light of the day again.

It was all fine. I lived happily ever after with wired bras – or so I thought.

 

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