Underwire is EVIL.
Two days ago I went to an official lingerie store to buy some pretty bras. I only had mom bras before, you know, the boring, nondescript, don’t fit well but are comfy, non-underwire bras.
I’ve never been a big fan of underwire, partly because I have some scar tissue that the underwire never fails to rub painfully.
But all the pretty bras these days come with underwire, and it’s been a few years, so I decided I’d give it another go.
The lady who fitted me was fantastic, and was able to find me some very pretty bras in my size that actually fit and don’t fall down my shoulders. I like how they make me look – a little less frumpy and a lot more confident and well-put together.
But I don’t like how the underwire feels under my arms, of all places. That’s not where the scar tissue is. As I suspected, the new bras (and a properly fitted bra) don’t rub my scar tissue the wrong way. But under my arms I feel like I’m constantly being poked. And it’s uncomfortable. Especially when I’m typing. When I’m standing it’s not as bad.
This merely enforces my idea that underwire is evil. It is clearly a torture device. Especially since it means these bras must be hand washed.
Unless of course, you know something I don’t?