In other news: I was fitted for a bra (again) today and discovered that my torso measurement has gone from 42 inches down to 38 inches – and it feels truly great to be under 40! However my cup size is apparently a “G”. I just kind of blinked at the Sales Representative, doing the numbers in my head…
Triple D, then E, then F, then… me. Huh? Aren’t cup sizes like that reserved for ladies who have had significant surgical intervention?!
Apparently “G” though just means DDDD, and we skip E and F for some reason. Don’t ask me to explain, I was too busy hiding my sense of horror. I’ve been wearing DD for years and thought that was huge. I was fitted for a bra because all the cups on mine have been gaping open and I’d assumed the silly things had finally (thankfully) shrunk. But no – as my torso shrank they have somehow grown two cups larger instead. And no, I do not have the slightest clue how this is physiologically possible.
Perhaps I’ve been wearing the wrong, way too small-size for years and due to some strange fashion flub my way too small sizes have somehow all been freakishly large? I really don’t know.
It shouldn’t have upset me, I’ve lost weight and in the spot where it counted (my torso) and that quite obviously showed. I’m just tired of hauling around these useless, lumpy things on my front and I want them to shrink already – instead they appear to somehow be doing the opposite. I wonder if it’s all the upper body weight training workouts? If the muscles that support the chest and shoulders have increased in size, I suppose that would do the trick.
I’m going to assume that’s the case. So… yay me?
Overall though the experience was really lovely. The importance of a bra that fits correctly cannot be stressed enough. Not only does it help your back and posture but all your clothes on top just look ten times better. It defines the waistline beautifully – so I am extremely grateful for the intrepid friends and saleslady who spent time and consideration helping me learn to recognize exactly what a correct fit looks like on my changing shape and what that can do for me.
Lastly, I tried an experiment this week. I got a tin of 72% dark chocolate wedges from Trader Joe’s, reasoning to myself that it won’t trigger chocolate binging because dark is my least favorite type, and two small pieces should be both satisfying and quite health beneficial.
I managed to stop my voracious binge on the stuff after eating about half the container. Hey, small victory, at least I didn’t hork down the entire thing?