The infamous NZ bra fence, by (nz)dave on flickr
Today I decided to treat myself to a new sports bra, something which was long overdue. I’ve had my trusty Enell for years. I think I actually bought it before we got married, as part of my pre-wedding slim down campaign. Which makes it… (oh dear) 9 years old. No wonder it wasn’t particularly supportive anymore.
Anyway. After I got shoehorned into a new super-tight sports bra–zero jiggle!–I thought I’d ask them to check the fit of my regular bra as the underwire wasn’t fitting as closely as it should. Half an hour later, imagine my surprise to be wearing a bra that was 6″ smaller!! Considering that I bought some new (and hideously expensive) bras in November, that is pretty good going! The lady who fitted me said that I had a tiny ribcage; I can’t remember the last time anyone said that anything about me was small, let alone tiny.
I am so pleased.
A few people have commented on my weight loss which always gives me a warm, glowy feeling of accomplishment (coupled with a feeling of shame, at having become so fat in the first place), but it is really hard for me to see the changes in my own body. Holding up the old bra against the new one has driven it the message home a little.
For the record, I’ve gone from a 42GG to a 36HH. I fear I may look like Jordan when I’ve lost the rest of my weight!!
So, what to do with my old bras? Well, I could turn them into fetching hanging baskets and grow tomatoes in them. I’d be the talk of the street! Or… I could donate them to charity instead. Breasttalk.co.uk runs a Bra Appeal, collecting old (but still in decent nick) bras, which are then sold in Third World countries and a little bit of the money from this ends up with a British breast cancer charity. I’m going to parcel up mine and send them off this week. (Which means that I have to keep dieting as I’ll have no bigger clothes to wear!)