how to torture women

all i have read indicates there were no female prisoners at abu ghraib or guantanamo. they didn't have to endure the naked pyramids or waterboarding, which, no, were not really torture, ok, mr. cheney.

however, yesterday i realized the ideal way to do this. make them try on bras. or bathing suits, but having spent yesterday afternoon doing the former, it was quite horrible, i assure you. frustrating, humiliating, maddening.

why, noodle, why?

about a week ago, i realized my jackets were buttoning and zipping unlike they had in forevers. which prompted me to pull out my measuring tape. surely a man would never do this, he'd just be psyched his clothes were looser and take that as sufficient confirmation he was getting thinner. so anyway, i lost 1.5 inches from my back. my bra cups are just as full, so it was only from my back.

shortly after that 2 of my bras decided to come up with broken underwires. it's near impossible to describe the discomfort of walking around, not supported and yet bound and askew. but bras are crazy expensive and i was hoping to postpone purchasing new ones til i had lost more weight. foiled.

instead of going full-on masochist and having a saleswoman measure me (knowing i am not the same size as those very old bras) i hit the net to learn the proper way. for decades, i have worn basically the same style, which manages to give a decent heave up but doesn't look like a granny sack. so armed with the new digits and in the interest of frugality, as well as considering them temporary, i headed for the deep discounters downtown.

i suppose because the little frillies are pretty, but i am always amazed at the tiny tiny bras and why a woman would even bother wearing one if that small-chested. so i make my way to the boulder-holder rack, which is only the beginning of the slow boil since nothing is hanging in proper order with b's, c's and d's all mixed up and the 34's in with the 40's. grrr.

the web claims i am a cup size smaller than i had thought, but i hold them up and think, "no way will that do the job." i take some anyway, along with an assort of of 4 different cup sizes and 3 different back sizes. 10 bras. 100% fail.

next shop. smaller selection, but i paw through. i realize they are insanely cheap, and take 5 into the dressing room. the woman who gives me the plastic number tag is covered up in a burka, but i realize under there, she too knows my distress.

miracle. one fits. i am not a cup size smaller, lol. non-miracle, there is only one other that is the same style and size and it's leopard print, lol. under my winter wardrobe of browns and blacks, i justify it, and know the owner will laugh when he sees it.

no doubt the egyptians were adept at torture, but they missed a grand possibility with just wrapping the bewbies up tightly in muslin strips, i swear.