Buying underwear has never been high on my list of favorite pastimes. And I would never darken the door at Victoria's Secret even when I HAVE to shop for unmentionables. In fact, my underclothes are so boring that they ARE mentionable. Say "cotton," "plain," "opaque, not see-through." In fact, I'll go ahead and say it: "Hanes Her Way" cotton underpants along with the least expensive bra I can find which will make my clothes fit.
Since my mastectomy, I have had to purchase my topside underclothes at a specialty shop for women in my condition. The store offers quite a wide array of styles, but I have been muddling along with a few "plain Jane" bras for my oh-so-lovely silicone inserts. I have not bothered myself with any special designs; just the basics is all I have thought about.
Picture my surprise and chagrin a few weeks ago, as I rushed to get ready for a fancy dress evening, when I discovered that the dress I was planning to wear....and the only thing I own that was really appropriate (I also do not shop for dressy clothes until backed up against a wall of necessity)....would not work, so to speak, with my meagre selection of undergarments. The bodice of this dress features a square cut neckline, and the bras I own did not accommodate this cut. Not a good look...a couple of plain white bra straps sloping across my upper chest, under a very chic black cocktail dress.
My brain flew into overdrive, and I decided that I could just pull an old trick from early teenage years, and stuff one of my old "leftover" bras with some tissues. But when I frantically began to scramble through my lingerie drawer (I use that term loosely), I remembered that I had donated all my old bras to Goodwill last year. What to do?
I wish I could report a wonderful MacGyveresque story (remember the TV show?) about my improvising an appropriate bra out of a couple of belts and a castoff tennis shoe. Wish I could, but, no; I just made a very dull choice and wore a "Sunday-go-to-meeting" dress which could sort of pass as a cocktail dress.
The moral of this story is "just because you don't have anything to put in them, doesn't mean that you shouldn't own a wide array of brassieres." Live and Learn.