More Ranting About Bras

I will only say this ONE MORE TIME, PEOPLE. (Okay, that's a lie and we all know it...I will probably tell you this at least twice more by the end of the week.)

GO. GET. YOURSELF. AN ACTUAL. BRA FITTING. And not from Victoria's Secret. I'm talking Nordstrom, I'm talking Soma, I'm talking Intimacy, I' m talking Bravissimo for my large-chested UK readers (Oh did I not mention how international I am? Because I sooooo am.) Just for the love of GOD go do it.

Sorry, I'm having a mental breakdown this morning about this. But they had "The Bra Whisperer" on WGN this morning and she's showing before and afters of women in bras, and she said "We've switched her to a 32E" and the news lady was like "32 EEEEE?!?!?!?! DOES THAT EVEN EXIST?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? KJSGI{ONG"RLSNJSGI:JSEFPJWERLJN" And the woman just ignored her and moved on. No. NO, BRA WHISPERER. You should have whipped around, smacked that woman in the face and set her straight.

I'm talking one of these:



This is the problem with the world right now. Screw religious zealots and global warming--THE HUMAN RACE HAS A MISCONCEPTION ABOUT BOOBS AND WE NEED TO FIX IT BEFORE WE CAN MOVE ON.

FACT: 85% of women are wearing the wrong bra size. If you are not 100% confident that you are wearing the perfect size for you, guess what? You are one of the 85%. You are wearing the wrong size. You.

The thing about the woman who was the 34E? She didn't look "big chested." Joe and I were both watching (torture for Joe, I'm SURE) and as my face turned a nice shade of FIRE, I said, "See? THAT girl is an E! And does she look big?" And Joe said, hands down, NO. She did not look big. Granted, he also probably didn't want to be clawed into a million tiny pieces, but I'm pretty sure he ALSO agreed with me.

But when you hear anything DD or above, your mind goes here:


When it should actually go here:


That is a screen grab from the video of the Bra Whisperer, which you can watch in full here. And do you see what I'm talking about? THAT is a 32E. THAT, you guys.

And that's all I have to say about that.

10 Steps To Making A Man Fall In Love With You

Okay, fine. I’m no expert. I have no degrees or training in relationships. Hmm, what would that look like? Girlfriend 101: Be Nice...Girlfriend 350: Dealing With Farts?

But I do think I have some idea about how to snag a fella. Not only have I done it, but I have also done it WRONG many, many times. Which means I have learned. I have done just about everything that ACTUAL relationship experts tell you not to do. And I have taken those learnings and put together my own list of the ten basic things you need to be able to do if you want to make your man fall desperately, madly, slightly embarrassingly in love with you.

Of course, this is assuming you’ve found a guy who’s worth falling in love with. Don’t just pick some schmo off the street and try these tactics out. That’d be creepy. I don’t want any of you citing me on Cops, because I will NOT defend you.

All I’m going for here is this: maybe you’re really good at snagging guys. Whether they fawn over you at the bar, or you have some kind of award-winning OK Cupid profile, you’ve figured out how to make a gentleman raise one eyebrow and stroke his beard. But maybe you have a harder time holding onto them. For some mysterious reason, they just don’t make it past the 1 or 2 or 6 month mark. Well, here’s what I’m thinking:


10 STEPS TO MAKING A MAN FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU
By Emily

1. Don't make him do lame stuff.

Don’t take him shopping. Don’t drag him to movies with Jennifer Aniston or Ashton Kutcher. Don’t make him sit in the corner while you and your girl friends scream “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” at karaoke. Go do your girl thing and leave him at home. You’ll both be happier.


2. Speak up.

If there is one phrase that is unanimously hated among boys, it is “I don’t know, what do YOU want to do?” Buck up. Make a decision. The great thing about guys is, they don’t have secret hidden layers like girls do. They tell you what they want, and they tell you what they don’t want. I know, right? It’s baffling. As the great Kelly Kapoor once said, “I mean, who says exactly what they’re thinking? What kind of game is that?” But it’s not a game! They’re just that low-maintenance! And all they want in return is for us to be blunt and honest when we know that we want to get a burrito and go dancing. Or eat a burrito, buy some Maalox and rent Ace Ventura 2: When Nature Calls.


3. Make him a sandwich, woman.

I’m not saying you should be his slave. But when he’s at your place, be a good hostess. Offer him a soda. Grill him up some cheese. Show him that you’re a giver. Then when you’re at HIS place, he can make you things. Because relationships are a give and take. Just because you make him a meal does not mean that you’ve lost the Women’s Rights battle. If you expect him to always bring YOU presents and give YOU massages and buy YOU meals, you’re going to see a boyfriend-shaped puff of smoke where he once stood. So grab a palm frond, peel some grapes, and show some love.


4. Realize when you've been talking for an hour.

The easiest way to figure out how much you’ve been talking is at a restaurant: If he has practically finished his chicken carbonara and your meatballs are untouched and cold, maybe you need to slow it down there, lady. Take a breath. Ask him a question and shove a little food in your gob. Don’t you love those people who you see after a long time apart and they seem legitimately interested in the things you’ve been up to? You could be one of those people! How was his day? What are his thoughts on Palestine? Whatever! Just ask!


5. Take care of him when he’s sick.

This one’s a little tricky because you have to wait around until he’s under the weather. But when he is, SWEEP IN! Let those mothering instincts take over. Cold compresses, chicken soup, medicine. Read a book nearby while he sleeps. And importantly: ask nothing in return. Don’t be that girl who’s like, “Back massage, Baby? Try not to get any phlegm on me this time.” Basically, be the person you wish you had when you were sick.


6. Stop complaining.

Honestly, I am taking this one out of Men Are From Mars. But here’s the deal: women bring their problems to other women because we like to share. That’s how we show love. But dudes only bring their problems to other dudes when it is A Problem That Needs Fixing and he can’t do it on his own. So basically, when you spend half an hour talking about your terrible experience at The IHOP, all he hears is “Help me with my strawberry syrup problem! What can I do? What did I do wrong? Fix it!” And if you keep riding that complaining train, he’s not going to stay on it for very long because it’s grating and stressful. You’ll end up at Alone Junction. And probably DoubleStuffOreoville.


7. Get a good-fitting bra.

Nothing makes you look sloppier than a bra from Victoria’s Secret. Go to Nordstrom and do it now. This actually won’t make him fall in love with you, it’s just my personal quest. But you know what? No. It WILL make him fall in love with you. Because you’ll look better, you’ll feel better, and he’ll want to be around someone who looks and feels like a million bucks. Which you will. If you go to Nordstrom. Stop it, Emily, you’re scaring them.


8. Learn how to do something for yourself.

Like change a tire. Or unplug a toilet. Whatever self-help level you’re at is fine. It's amazing how impressed guys can be by the littlest thing that girls ‘aren’t supposed’ to do. “Whoah, you aren’t afraid to kill spiders? You’re so cool.” “Whoah, you can chop wood? You’re so cool.” “Whoah, you built a house using nothing but hair ties and a can-do attitude? You’re so cool.” Whatever it is. Guys want a girl who can hitch up her pants and get things done.


9. Have a conversation with his friends when he’s not around.

Whether your boyfriend’s in another state or just in the bathroom, show his friends that you can be a cool person without him backing you up. The thing is, his friends just want to know if their bud’s gf has his best interests in mind and makes him happy. So be the supportive, fun person you are, and hopefully you’ll win a few hearts over.


10. Be interested in the stuff he loves.

I mean, you don’t have to become a die-hard Lakers fan or learn the ins and outs of the Lamborghini or pick up the keytar. But if he’s a woodsman, go camping with him for a weekend. Watch a couple soccer games. Go see his band play. Be supportive! And if you hate the stuff he loves? Um...why are you dating him?



Really all I'm saying here is to be the other-half you wish you had for yourself. Do you want a mean, complaining, uncaring boyfriend? No. And he doesn’t either. So please, ladies, take my advice: be the person you’d want to date. Be nice. And deal with farts. I’m just saying.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: Victoria’s Secret Sucks

BEWARE BEFORE YOU READ: This post is intended for my lady readers. Men, feel free to keep reading if you want to have some real talk about bras. Otherwise I'll see you next week. You've been warned.

Yesterday there was a big Advertising Halloween party at an editing house. It was great! Free beer, free fun, loud music…OH, and once again I ended up on my soapbox about getting a bra fitting at Nordstrom in the middle of the crowded dance floor.



I am shocked—SHOCKED—that I have had this blog for almost an entire year and I have yet to write a post about bra fittings.

Here is the nub and gist of it: if you have only gotten a bra fitting at Victoria’s secret, dusted off your hands and called it a day, YOU ARE WEARING THE WRONG SIZE BRA. I will put money down on that fact to ANY of you.

Here is how I know:

Every SINGLE person who I know (and I know at least six off the top of my head) that thought they were wearing the right size according to Victoria and then went to Nordstom, found out that they were TWO whole cup-sizes bigger. And every person, once wearing the new Nordstrom bra, felt better, perkier, more holstered, and more comfortable than they ever had before.

And of course, me included.

I have known people to go in thinking they were an “unattractive” (and I use those quotes EMPHATICALLY) 36A their entire young lives, to come out finding they’re a lovely, enviable 36C. I have known people to go in thinking they were a droopy awkward 36D to come out finding they actually feel slimmer and more comfortable in their 32F.

Nothing makes me sadder than someone who looks like they feel awkward in their own boobs. Except maybe someone who laments that they’re an A when even I can now take one look at them and guarantee them that they’re bigger.

Oprah did a whole show and has online info on bra fittings, and guess who sponsored the whole thing? NORDSTROM.

GO. TO. NORDSTROM. OPRAH SAYS SO.

And don't even give me the "I don't WANT to be 2 sizes bigger!" excuse. Because trust me, you do. You will once you feel what a difference it makes in the way you feel and walk and stand.

And speaking of big boobs--It annoys me GREATLY that people think enormous boobs are DDs. I remember a crass frat boy telling a story and saying "they were the biggest boobs I've ever seen in real life. They were like DOUBLE Ds, dude." Guess what. If they were the biggest boobs you've ever seen in real life? She was at least an H (That's five Ds). I guarantee that you see double Ds every day of your life. But because most stores, including VS, only go as high as DD, everyone assumes that's the biggest anyone could be, and anything higher would be a freak show. And anyone who is bigger is not told by the VS people that she is actually too big to fit their bras. She is simply given the wrong size and sent on her merry way, jiggling uncomfortably down the street. It's no wonder 8 out of 10 women are wearing the wrong size bra. These people have probably been fitted by Victoria.

GO.

TO.

NORDSTROM.

And even if you go and find out Victoria’s Secret was right (there’s a first for everything, I suppose), I have another reason you should get your bras from Nordstrom: they have the best return policy in the whole wide world.

Here’s a fun little story for you. Walk with me, won’t you?

A few years ago, I bought a bra from Nordstrom that didn’t fit me right (I tried sizing myself without help. I was wrong.) But I didn’t realize that until I’d worn it for an entire 90 degree day. As you can guess, things got a little sweaty up in here. Well I didn’t want to be The Girl Who Returned a Bra With Sweat Stains, so I washed it. Then I realized that I needed to dry it quickly so I could get to Nordstrom before they closed. But they say not to throw it in the dryer. So what did I do?

That’s right, I used a blow dryer. Face, I’d like to introduce you to Palm. You should be friends.

I noticed that the place I was blow drying was becoming a different color. I thought it was just the water drying. I kept going. Then I stopped. I looked harder. Oh yes. I had MELTED MY BRA. My bra that I needed to exchange for a different size.

I think I screamed. I definitely cried. And since my mom was at work, my poor dad had to be the one to try and console his hysterical daughter cradling a half-wet, half-melted bra in her hands. But he told me I should still try to exchange it.

So I did.

I walked up to the girl at the lingerie register, gave her the short version of the story, and (at this point I was basically on my knees with my clenched, entwined hands raised above my head in desperation) asked if there was any way she could exchange this one with a different size.

The girl, who was probably about my age, gave me a look like I cannot BELIEVE I am about to do this for you and said, “What size do you need?”

And that, my friends, is why you HAVE to go to Nordstrom. RIGHT. NOW. You HAVE to.

Please get a fitting. Even if you are old enough to remember Gandhi. DO IT. If you can go to Oak Brook, ask for Faye. She’ll help a sister out. If you have to go to the one downtown Chicago, then that’s probably better than nothing, but the suburban Nordstroms are best. Hopefully for those reading outside of the Chicagoland area, your Nordstrom is good, too. If not, hop on the next train and get over here. I am not exaggerating when I say that it will change your life.

Or at least it’ll change the way you fill out a dress.