- Guys can pee standing up. (Well, women can too, but not without serious consequences).
- Guys only have one area to cover up for an impromptu swim, sun bathe, etc.
- Guys don't give birth.
- Guys never have to go through the hell that is buying a new bra.
First, for all of you girls that are blessed with small tatas (and yes- it is a blessing) and for all of you guys out there, let me give you an idea of what it is like to buy a new bra:
- If you really need support, you don't go to Victoria's Secret. I guess that's the secret- they don't actually fit well or hold up if they are holding up more than a C- cup. Surprise! Our bras only work if you look like our models and are a size 00 with a B and look great in push-up bras!
- Good bras cost a lot of money. Anywhere from $50-$80.
- Spending that much money on a bra means knowing the correct size. You wouldn't spend that much money on jeans or tennis shoes without knowing they would fit.
- Knowing the correct size means getting measured. Which means having someone (usually an older woman that has made this her life career and has no shame---- yeah forget hot girls touching hot girls--- that ain't happening in the bra department) wrap a measuring tape repeatedly around your boobs to get the exact size. And the exact size means a taut measuring tape. Which means Gertrude/Bertha/Doris/Thelma unapologetically gets all up in your stuff.
- You then go into a fitting room with an array of bras, most of which look like they were designed to withstand the Apocalypse (at least the roaches will be around to enjoy the bras) and start trying them on.
- Trying on bras include bending, shaking, twisting, jumping, and a series of other moves that would make Elaine from Seinfeld look like a ballerina. And all of these moves before you put your shirt on to see how the bra looks normally. So there is a lot of time in front of the mirror discovering what you really look like.
"Ooooohhh be positive. Don't get frustrated this time. I know, I know... Spanx are just not doing it. I need something here (sound of hands slapping bare skin). OOOOOHH- good lord- these must be baby spanx!! (very heavy breathing).......... Maybe I should just go all natural with no bra and really move my flesh. No, no, no, I can't do that. I really need something to smash my boobies down- this dress is just too low cut and I can't look like a floozy....... Oh, god, now that really is a new roll.... (Panicked, heavy breathing, sounds of struggling, muffled talking).... Oh no... Oh no... I can't get out of this dress... I HATE shopping... (huge sigh) that's it, I'm done! Now where is my old bra?....... Awwww, here it is. Look how dilapidated it is. Now that is some sad looking. Ain't that something...."
And to this lady, whoever she may be, I dedicate this post because I know I've been there and will be there again at some point. It's just a fact of life in this farmisht world.
To the rest of you that are cursed with the plague of bra shopping:
May your straps hold up forever
May your clasps never quit
May your cups always protect against THO
May you always find that one perfect fit