measuring up
Earlier this week I went bra shopping for the first time in years. I mean, years. Turns out I'm a D cup! Who knew, right? I spent a totally insane amount of money on four (4) bras: one black, one neutral, two miscellaneous, because I've been wearing bras that don't fit for so long and I'm fucking tired of it, of dragging straps up my shoulders, resettling boob in cup, nope, wait, shit, reached something off a high shelf, dislodged the whole operation, gotta do it again. If you do not wear a bra, you have no idea how much work wearing one can be. Especially when yours don't fit right.
This is what I'm committed to in 2019: clothes that fit, and warm socks because my feet are always cold. It's hard to talk about "needing" anything because, like, my survival is not in question here, but I'm trying to give myself things that I need and that I want. I wear bras every day. Shouldn't I have some that don't slide around on my skin all day long? Shouldn't one of them have Swarovski crystals on it, just because? Turns out there's more luxury in a cozy fleece sweatshirt than the racks of jackets that don't fit, anymore, over my boxer's biceps. I have boots for hiking and training shoes for the gym and not a single pair of exciting high heels. This would have made me feel desolate when I was twenty, when I didn't care what it felt like as long as it looked good. Now it's such a relief to be less decorative. To reach out for the thing I need to use and find it sitting there waiting for me, day to day to day.
Speaking of past selves, I wrote about my resistance to the #tenyearchallenge for Buzzfeed.
And, to really hammer home a theme, I wrote about Maggie Rogers' stunning debut album Heard it in a Past Life for Uproxxx.
(Bonus content: Nozlee already wrote the best thing about bras in 2011. 2011!!!!)