the purging of the bras

Not that my puny bras took up a lot of actual space in the top drawer, but they started taking up more psychological space than they were welcome to. So yesterday I got rid of the bras. The bummer of it is that this actual led to increasing the space they occupy in my mind.

I don't have a strong relationship with bras. I remember starting to wear one in 6th grade -- mom ordered one out of the Sears catalog, and then I waited the requisite 6 weeks for its delivery. It had a little bumblebee right where the sternum is. Loved that bumblebee bra. Why did I ever get rid of that, I wonder. I never outgrew it, really, and it would have given me great cleavage during the years I was nursing.

Key events in my relationship with bras include being informed by a 6th grade peer that I should start wearing a bra. Two years later, an 8th grade peer glanced at me while changing after gym and assured me that I didn't really need to wear a bra (not a compliment or a kindness). That's a pretty small window of time, the heyday of my little breasts. I never once wore a bra during college, '73-'77. Saved a pretty penny on bras and razors growing up in those times.

Lots of the books on mastectomies focus on reconstruction and how you can become whole again. I don't know what to do with these books and their message. I can't relate on the one hand, and on the other hand, they make me feel bad, so clearly I am relating somehow. One woman with mastectomies writes about how she decided to do reconstruction by increasing her cup size from B to a C, so as to increase her confidence. And it worked. I dunno; I am off-put by that whole idea. What a tyranny. But this once again could be sour grapes (small fruit as they are) talking. Might I feel differently had I been a confident woman strutting around with C cups as my opening line?

It's complicated. When I finally get my prostheses, I will in fact upgrade from my natural "36 nearly A" to a full out, no holds barred 36A. This way I will move past my days of  trying on the smallest bras in the store (bumblebee bras are in the children's section, so they don't count) and having them pucker a bit on me. Upgrading to the full impact A will increase my confidence and will really turn heads when I enter a room. Unless the turning heads will be because I'm bald.

Nah. It's going to be the A cup prostheses, I'm sure.