Wrangling

Herself speaks.

I went to the local outlet mall in search of proper supportive undergarments. I was expecting the excursion to be horrid; there are fewer things more agonizing than shopping for underthings when one is An Ample Person. 

I eventually landed in the Lane Bryant store. (I try hard not to think of it as a "fat girls' store", even though it carries larger sizes. I clearly have self-body-image issues; I'd never fault anyone else for shopping there, so why is it somehow shameful for me to do so? I need to do better inside my head.)

I found surprisingly helpful advice and assistance from "Jennie", who measured me for proper size and provided recommendations. The selection in the store was remarkable:  a lovely collection of cute and patterned underthings.  It has been SO LONG since I've seen anything pretty in larger sizes. It was quite astonishing. 

There was one moment when Jennie said politely, oh dear, you are probably bigger than a DDD  You're quite full.  Oh, dear. Yes, Jennie, I am. We settled on a G cup, or an H cup if it was a lower-cut style. I will admit to being a tad horrified at G/H. Yet, what can I do? Such it is. Alas. 

When all was said and done, I went home with a variety of properly-sized new underthings, and now the mammaries are properly wrangled. Even better, I know what size to choose, so I can shop online for all the pretty dainties. And bonus -- no tears were shed. It's a near miracle, I tell you. 

Since I must live in this body, I should, at least, give it something pretty to wear.