Due to an apparent inability to grow up, buying bras still makes me wildly uncomfortable. Decided between the lace and the lycra, dodging over eager salespeople as they come uncomfortably close to your goods, tape measure in hand, the whole thing feels a tad traumatic. Rather than face the fear, I've moved my underwear shopping to the internet. The vast web, I assumed, would make my search so much easier.
Well, it did cut down on the embarrassed, squirmy factor, but it also resulted in a confusion so dense that I have yet to sort through it. No, it's not the myriad clasps and shapes and colors. That I get, even if I don't like it. Much less comprehensible is the padding.
Will someone please explain to me why anyone would wear a 34D padded bra? In what universe does that make any sense? It's like having a little too much ass going on and addressing the situation by eating a gallon of ice cream. It doesn't compute. And yet there they are, row after row of padded bras in sizes like 36DD.
I know plenty a small chested girl who's fallen back on the padding method and I suppose being born with boy chest does entitle you to a little futzing every now and again. But isn't all that padding false advertising? I mean, the assumption is that you're wearing the padded bra so that someone will want to see you naked. Then, the second that happens, the whole illusion falls to pieces. As a friend of mine so aptly put it when I misguidedly ranted at him about this: "by the time she's naked, trust me, no guy is going to care." Touche sir, but I still don't get it.