I'd put it off long enough.  I needed new bras.  They were all too itchy, too tight, not supportive enough, had loose straps or straps that hit bone.  You ever notice that?  Bra straps either fall down every three seconds or burrow so deep into your shoulder that you need anti-rejection medication to wear them.

It's one of those things you hate to do, but every so often we, women, have to go and purchase new foundations garments.  I've never liked spending money on things that can't be seen.  Like you know....you'd rather buy hardwood floors than a new water heater.  Bras are no exception and they're no small investment either.  That's why they're always having bra sales.  No one could afford more than one at a time if they didn't run those continuously.

My mother takes the subject of bras very seriously.  She's always wanting to buy them for me or asking about my bra inventory.  She routinely gives me tips that she's learned from bra authorities over the years like...."Joni, the lady at Dillard's told me that you're supposed to fall into your bra.....just lean forward and fall into it."  You know...tips like that.

For years, she's alerted me whenever the department stores were having those bra fitting weekends where they bring their specialist in from some out of town headquarters.  Somehow my mother has always had the idea that experts from out of town have a higher degree of expertise than local experts.  "Now Joni, we need to go down there this weekend and let that lady from Atlanta tell us what size and kind of bra will work best for us."  I don't know about you, but I can think of about 4,000 things I'd rather do than be shut up in a dressing room on a Saturday with my Mama and a little gray haired lady with cold hands and a measuring tape. 

Well, a few years back, I let her talk me into it.  I mean, after all, she's not getting any younger and if that would bring joy to her then, "Ok, Mama...I'll go with you to see the bra lady".  I thought it might be a bonding experience for us since it was something that's so dear to her heart and all. 

We got to the bra department and I could spot her a mile away.....the Bra Specialist.  She just looked like she knew her stuff with her big gold name badge and perky bosoms.  Her badge said she was "Certified", which I'm sure excited my mother even more.  Anyway, Mama made a beeline to her like she was some sort of rock star.  I timidly hung back like I was four, while my mommy explained to the lady from Atlanta (that bears repeating) that I needed a good fitting.  After a few questions, she went to grabbing and snatching bras off of the rack and told me to go put them on and she would come and check me.  When I'd gotten one on, my mother heralded the news and here she came.  She mashed and pulled and tugged and squeezed and measured and adjusted and finally told me exactly what I needed to achieve the most pleasant and effective bra experience.  We all slept better that night knowing that I had been seen by a specialist.

So today, I took what I learned long ago from the expert lady from Atlanta and headed out to the President's Day bra sale.  There is no greater way to honor our country's leaders, past and present, than with the purchase of women's undergarments.  Anyway, today was the day that I'd set aside to "git 'er done".  I stood amid the vast acreage of, as my grandmother used to say, bra-zeers....as far as the eye could see.....nothing but bra-zeers......comfort straps, back smoothing, underwire, sexy support, full support, full coverage, light and luxurious, extra lift, push up, wireless, natural boost, age defying lift, all over smoothing and minimizing.  It can be overwhelming, but trust me.....the last thing you want to do is stand there and look puzzled, because those bra ladies can smell bewilderment and they'll come at you.  You don't want that.

At least, I have that chore done for a while.

I hope your week has been uplifting so far!