Thursday, July 29, 2010

Bras.

My bras get deeee-stroyed in the washing machine and the dryer.  I know it.  Their lives are cut short by months and months because I am too lazy to hand wash my delicates like any intelligent person would.
Maybe it's because I believe in a world where hand washing doesn't exist.  It's as archaic as the horse-drawn carriage.  I mean, really, we can send robots to mars to bring back dirt but we still have to hand wash our bras?  
Women need to start putting their feet down.  Bras are expensive and I don't want to have to buy them all the time!  And I refuse to buy the cheap ones because the wire always pops out and pokes you under the armpit constantly.  I swear to you - no joke - I have a scar from a bra that did that to me.  
I always have good intentions.  I will hand wash for the first couple of weeks.  But then... I don't want to do it.  I hate it.  It's stupid and I don't have the time.  And it's stupid.  Why should I hand wash my bras?
We need to insist on more durable under-things.  Maybe replace those stupid clips with a button and a hole.  That would work just fine for me.  That way the clippy things don't bend or hurt... and you can always sew a button back on.  And wireless bras make my boobs jiggle like crazy.  They aren't supportive.  Maybe we could figure something else out?  Why can't we improve the bra?  Why?
If I were decent with a needle and thread or sewing machine I would make it my personal mission to re-invent the brassiere.  But as it is, I'm stuck with the fucking things and tonight Mike and I are going to the mall to buy more.  


And I will just have to suck it up and hand wash them.  


mum jams: live high - jason mraz

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