The Bra Police:: Hands Up, I'm Padding You Down

I know it's pretty well in the category throughout Australia that it's 'too-hot-to-wear-a-bra'. They should have one of those charts they have for bush fires so that all women are comfortable in the knowledge that they should unleash the beast and set their boobies free. 

So spare a thought for me. Of the small boobied variety. All my bras have about 10cm of padding in them foam. It's sweaty in there.

And this is not my flipping fault.

Recently I went to go bra shopping (right up there with shoe shopping for one of my most loathed sorts of shopping for me), and I thought - I am so sick of padded bras. Let's be real, I am going to just have some nice non-padded bras, and no underwire while we're at it - and be done with these faux boobies. 

I found plenty of non-padded bras that I liked. Plenty. 

But none in my size. 

It's as if the designers of bras decided that NOPE - if you're flat chested, then you are totally going to have to wear padding. The End. Don't even try and have a conversation about it. 

Padding. Underwire. You're getting the whole lot. We don't care if you're at one with your petite cleavage. 

It kind of defies logic. Doesn't it? I don't need any hardcore engineering. I don't need a designer to fashion some webbing the latest elastic and a bit of lace (actually and some bows, diamantes, polka dots, and whatever else you can throw on it - because let's make it look like a haberdashery store threw up on this piece of underwear). I just need some boobie covers. Nothing much else really. Let's be brutally honest. 

Before you say - did you try this brand, or this brand, or this brand? The answer is no. Like I said, I hate bra shopping. With a vengeance. And I know that Calvin Klein bras fit me, so I go straight to that section. When I am bra shopping, I shop like a man. No faffing around, I'd rather be sitting on the man seat than in the change room. 

One Might Think That One Might Give It A Rest

But one doesn't, does one?

Not even in the teeming rain, when I was thinking - sheesh, this might turn into hail - even when my windscreen wipers were going into overtime did I think, nah - I won't pull over. No siree.

Sensei says junking requires pure dedication. Sensei says even if you get rained on, even if the neighbours are staring, you still go junking if you want to hit the goods. Sensei says sometimes gloves are required.

But not today.

Coming home from one of life's most mundane shopping trips (bras, why can I never find a pretty/nursing bra in my size?) I took a couple of detours. I always go the back streets, and this is where I yield most goodies.

So today's prize may not look like much to you. But it is. Those coathangers are gold. I am mad for a vintage coathanger. One day I'll show you my most prized one. That box is going to house some of my collections. And that hat. That hat was worn by a high court judge (not that you care, but it's part of my little community), onceuponatimethankyouverymuch. Everything that has a story is worth getting out of the car in the rain and getting soaked for. Even when you're in a white top and you could consider getting down to your local pub for the wet t-shirt competition afterwards. Even then.