A few weeks ago, I was getting dressed to go to a surprise birthday party for a friend who was having a milestone birthday, an important occasion. An important occasion I might add for which you should make an effort to look your best! I had a new dress hanging ready in my closet, a trendy black and white striped sleeveless, figure hugging dress that I had been looking forward to wearing. Having four children means I’m generally hassled, harassed and running late and on this day that was true also. I always think I have everything planned out flawlessly but then life inevitably throws some sort of curve ball, be it fighting kids, a phone call, someone at the door, a clogged toilet, dogs wanting to go outside and then disappearing . . . you name it, something can and will go wrong. So as usual, something went awry and I was running late. I quickly changed into the dress, didn’t even look myself over in the mirror, grabbed up my cooler with my party food contributions, screamed at the kids to get into the car and flew out of the door. On arriving at the party, I ducked into the host’s washroom and checked myself in the mirror. Imagine my horror when I saw that my dress had deep arm cut outs which showed my bra – which was the ratty, armpit stained plain old bra I had put on that morning! Disgusting! Embarrassing! How shameful! Me, who really and truly does own (though I’m sure nobody at the party would believe it) the most gorgeous array of beautiful, colourful Polish lingerie . . . which was sitting at home, in my drawer, doing me no good at all. Why?! What had possessed me to put THAT bra on that morning? Why did I still even own it? I spent the evening hugging my sides so that nobody would see and silently cursing the fact that I even still owned that old bra. I decided then and there that the bra would have to meet Death by Fire. You know when you decide that a relationship is over, how everyone says you need to make it final? Make a clean break, they always say. It was the only way. Yes. YES!
I actually had a couch that I had decided should meet the same fate, and so I lit a small (cough cough) fire. Truthfully, I was a bit surprised the fire department didn’t show up. Now, readers, I know that many of you will recognize the brand of bra in the photo below. Some of you may be shouting, “Don’t do it!” “Everyone needs a good nude bra!” Which may be true. But, readers, nobody needs a bra that has shamed them. The show must go on. Cover your eyes if you must.
Unfortunately I couldn’t get within 20 feet of my inferno for about a half hour or so. The bra – and my bag of marshmallows, would have to wait. Eventually my fire died down to at least an approachable level and I prepared to bid adieu to what had once been an old friend to me. Any last minute second thoughts were banished when my husband, finally noticing what was happening, called out, “That was an ugly bra anyway!” And so it went.
Within seconds, it was over. All that was left was my memories. . . and two scorched wires.
Now readers, you may be asking yourself, “But what will she do now when she needs a nude bra?!”. Well, as luck would have it, in the following days, Ewa Michalak released a gorgeous nude, the S Malibu – review to come soon!