There’s nothing like a good bra…

…to put a smile on a woman’s face.

When my 12-year-old sister had been visiting during the summer I noticed she’d only been wearing sports bras and that the ones she had didn’t fit very well at that. She mentioned not liking how any of the other types of bras felt. I know the owner of the local fine lingerie boutique, so I brought my sister in to get a proper fitting so she’d know what size to buy when she went shopping next, and so she’d know what a good bra felt like. Now Raffaella is a pro at this, it’s not just the take the measurements and tell you what size you should be – infact she doesn’t take measurements at all – she checks how it’s fitting, and sends you up or down a size accordingly until everything is where it should be. She is so good at this she can actually look at you with your clothes still on and tell you what size you are. This is important. Having the right size can make the difference between a bra being a torture device or your best friend.

Well, my mom’s been losing weight, she was bragging about it before Christmas. She also mentioned that the weightloss was causing all her favorite bras to not fit and that she was dreading going shopping for new ones. She didn’t like the idea of shopping for bras itself, let alone having someone mess with her during a fitting, and she inquired about my friend’s magical ability to size up a rack without any rackage being exposed. She agreed to come up for a fitting herself, but wavered on making plans. She’d actually set a date twice and backed out both times (although one time was unintentional). I decided to make her Christmas present a $100 gift certificate at the boutique so she’d have to come up. I mean, what woman can pass up spending $100 of someone else’s money on herself?

Today was the day.

She and my sister came up for a lunch date of bra shopping. She went into the store very reluctantly – as many women do. She had a very let’s get this over with attitude as Raffi recommended styles and sizes and entered the change room with the first candidates. After a few size adjustments (she’d started off with the same size she was wearing, 36 DD and ended up in a 40DD – Raffie’s guess was 38DD) we heard an “oh wow, that fits!” come from the change room. The first style being tried on was your everyday seamless t-shirt bra so Raffie grabbed a VERY tight t-shirt to demonstrate to my mom how smooth it would look. The woman that came out of that changeroom was not the same woman that had gone in. She had gone in resigned and in a bulky, shapeless, albeit comfy and would have been stylish had it fit properly, sweater and come out glowing, 20 lbs lighter, a hot shapely number in jeans and a baby-tee. Later she confided in me that her first thought at this point was “what are they doing up here?”

…And that was just the everyday bra.

With the practical, goes-under-anything side of things well in hand, Raffie asked if she wanted to look at more styles. She was met with a much more exuberant response. My mom actually seemed excited, nay, willing to shop further! The pinnacle was a sexy black lace bra that she was so happy about she actually let us see it on her. Her face in that moment… Raffie and I were both almost in tears. As my mom was changing Raffie explained that that look is why she does what she does. That difference between how my mom walked into the store and how proud of herself she looked in that bra. To be able to make someone feel that much better about themselves with something so simple is just incredible.

We all want to give something back to our parents.

Really, I’d just wanted her to come visit and go shopping like we used to do all the time. The gift certificate was just a means to that end. I had something to bribe her with. She needed a fitting, I knew a good place to get that. The money meant she’d have to come. Since I’ve had my kids I’ve come to understand more and more what she must have gone through, how she must feel about herself. There’s always that drive to take care of the ones you love the most, but it’s different when it comes to the people that take care of you, somehow it feels like no matter how much you want to you won’t be able to – the river flows one way. Today I manged to send a tributary back up. How simple, and how affective it was has me floored.

I’m a woman, too.

It really shouldn’t. It’s like that John Mayer song – “girls become lovers who turn into mothers,” except us mothers never really stop being those girls we were to begin with and I know deep down us girls want the same things. Underneath it all we just want to feel good, and to feel good about ourselves. So why not start with a really good bra?

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