There are circumstances when a degree in algebra would certainly be beneficial. Never once did any of my instructors say, "Pay attention young ladies! You’re going to need to know how to calculate your correct bra size someday and it won’t remain the same throughout your life. You don’t want people to look at your chest and realize you flunked algebra, do you?"
Warner's 1944 advertisement for bra sizes A through D. They were second after S.H. Camp Company to make bras designed to fit differently sized breasts.
Perhaps it’s no coincidence that branch of mathematics is called algebra.
Shopping for bras is on my ‘Ten Most Dreadful Activities I Will Avoid as Long as Possible’ list. I haven’t examined my motives behind this deep-seated aversion, since analyzing my quirky behaviors is also on the list.
Every two or three years the issue of new bras creeps up to the top of ‘Things I Can’t Ignore Anymore’ list and I literally have to do the math.
A one-inch thick popular home-shopping catalog with the next seasonal fashion trends graced the mailbox in a timely manner. My husband checked out the men’s work clothes section and marked the single page (out of 900, including the cover) he planned to use when placing an order. Did you realize that denim overalls are always in season? It’s not fair.
Mike slid the catalog toward my end of the countertop so I could take a turn. I flipped though layered looks, coordinates, evening gowns, jackets and sleepwear, followed by foundation garments. I suspect that manufacturers theorize women may be willing to accept foundation garments as a bit more pricey than if the product was labeled as ordinary underwear.
I hesitated a moment, tempted by the ease of shopping from home: twenty-seven pages of bras to scrutinize, excluding the maternity section. The photographer’s models all looked healthy, although young, with believable silhouettes. There wasn’t an anorexic woman in the bunch. My hopes were raised.
I first narrowed the field by avoiding anything constructed with narrow straps. That’s a definite no-no for my ‘grandmotherly’ figure. I skipped past push-ups, pocket bras (whatever those are), tubes, strapless and the ‘special occasion convertible torsolette’. I eliminated bras constructed with lace, embroidery, polyurethane, or any vaguely described as using domestic/imported materials, along with previously unfamiliar man-made fabrics such as Crepeset®, elastane or Spanette®. Do I need to mention that zebra and baby leopard prints are automatically out of the running?
Read the rest of Roberta McReynolds' article, If the Cup Fits, Wear It
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