So, in my continuing quest to be attractive to my husband and make an effort with my appearance, I put on a retired lace bra this evening. I think although I purchased this bra with aforementioned bust intentions (ok, bad joke), it has rarely, if ever, actually been worn. Instead it has been hibernating in a drawer, crammed underneath lots of other more reliable/comfortable/practical underthings.
Not long after I donned said bra, I began itching furiously. There is nothing more un-sexy than a woman scratching her chest and constantly adjusting herself in hopes that it will stop.
Scritch. Scra-a-a-a-atch. Itch. Scritch scratch. Itchy itchy. What are there, bugs in my blouse?
"What is wrong with you?" Hubs asked, staring at me in utter horror. Even the dog looked at me curiously. I peeked down my shirt and noted that a red rash was quickly spreading over my skin.
I explained to Hubs that according to Issac Mizrahi, if you start with beautiful underthings, you will begin to feel more beautiful and radiate confidence, etc. And that there's nothing more sexy than a confident woman. He rolled his eyes at me. I stormed into our bedroom, yanked off the offending article of clothing, replaced it with my boring, everyday brassiere and here I sit relating this tale.
This is precisely why I have such a hard time sticking with this sort of thing, this "making an effort." I just end up with a rash and a husband who thinks I'm one sandwich short of a picnic.
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