Pulling Myself Together

I went to JC Penney's the other day looking for a pair of orange shoes, (which I found) and in my usual ADD style, I wandered over to the misses department to see if I could find an orange top. I decided that my winter wardrobe needed an injection of color and orange was it. I circled a half dozen racks, and found a half dozen tops, and headed for the fitting room.

I hate mirrors in fitting rooms! I took off my dull grey jacket with white blouse, and before I slipped on a bright orange cotton sweater, I caught my image in the mirror, and out came an UGH! I dropped the sweater and ran my thumbs under each bra strap and gave about a 4" lift. There! That's much better, I thought.

The piped in music in the fitting room was interrupted by a pleasant woman's voice who said, "Ladies, our intimates department is featuring BUY ONE GET ONE HALF OFF today on all of our bras. Stop by to have one of our Certified Bra Specialists give you a custom fitted look." I said, "Is that YOU God?" I quickly got dressed and headed right over there.

I walked up to the counter where two employees were busy helping other women who were also looking for a way to lift their spirits. One tipped her head up, smiled, and said, "Can I help you?"

"I heard the voice of an angel on the innercom say something about bra fittings. Am I in the right place?" I asked.

"You bet! I'll be right with you," she said as she thanked a customer and handed her a bag. "Hi Tracy," the woman with the bag said. It was a friend of mine from church. "Lisa! Did you get fitted too?" We chatted for a moment and agreed that women should get bra fittings every six months or so. I made a mental note to remind myself every time I go to the dentist for a cleaning, schedule a bra fitting.

Lisa left looking happy with her purchase and I headed to the fitting room with a lovely woman named Deanne who had a seamstresses tape measure draped around her neck. Deanne asked me to remove my jacket and raise my arms. She took two measurements, one right under my bust line and one smack dab in the middle. Deanne and I were now gal pals. I couldn't believe it when she said my size. It was a full cup and number size larger than I had been wearing for twenty years.

"Are you sure you measured right?" I asked my new BFF?

"I'll be right back," she said.

Deanne came back with three bras in my new impressive size while I was still trying to wrap my brain around how this happened. I remembered my junior high days of training bras and tube socks rolled in them and wondering if God forgot about me since my older sister seemed to have all the Pamela Anderson genes in the family. I hated being a nearly B.

To my amazement, the new bras actually fit. I think it had something to do with the expansion program that my hips and thighs have been on for the past fifteen years. The 'movement' had an effect on my upper half too. It reminded me of a tube of toothpaste that has been squeezed from all different directions. When you start at the bottom of the tube and push all that misplaced paste toward the top, "Shazam! You have about a month's worth of tooth brushing left in there!"

I wasn't sure if I should feel good or not about my new shapely shape. I quickly told my "43-year-old-AND-five-baby-birthing-machine-self" to rejoice in a new day, and thank God for the many mercies He offers. I took four bras up to the cash register and thought about asking Deanne if she could recommend a comfortable girdle, but decided to go with the comfort of the all spandex full briefs. Thanks Deanne! You made me feel okay about being over 40 and a little bit fuller than average! And thanks for helping me 'Pull Myself Together!'