I Marie-Kondo’d my bra drawer and feel so uplifted

Rachel Hollis, author of Girl, Wash Your Face was right: Bras are the devil's work. Over my lifetime, I've probably invested the equivalent cost of a luxury German imported car in a futile search for a comfortable bra. I'm convinced they don't exist. Yesterday as I was getting dressed to go out, I tried on no less than three before I found one comfortable enough to wear to the mall. And when I got there I bee-lined it for the Jockey For Her section in the lingerie department in search of something…

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I Marie-Kondo’d my bra drawer and feel so uplifted
We all know that feeling!

Let’s burn our bras – again!

As I get older and more crotchety, I'm less tolerant of things that annoy me. In an earlier post (There's no business like shoe business), I compared today's styles in high heels to the 21st century's version of foot binding. I'd now like to include bras in that category. All Boomer Broads agree that the "girls" need support. We understand that. But why does that support have to be designed solely for the eye of the beholder not the wearer. Why do bras have to be itchy, scratchy, binding, pinching…

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