The first time I posted a diary revealing some private humiliation (no, I will NOT provide a link) I made an interesting discovery:
Self-disclosure begets disclosure from others.
And another discovery:
There's always someone out there with a better story than mine.
And a final discovery:
People will reveal damn near anything to get a laugh.
I went to the grocery store yesterday wearing, among other things, a sweater over an elderly bra. As I was checking out I noticed the cashier couldn't seem to take her eyes off my chest. Not wanting to discuss her fascination with my perky ta-ta's, I ignored the incident and headed to the car.
It was barely above zero here. I was pushing my cart across the parking lot when what felt like an icicle bumped my chin. I looked down, and barely escaped blinding myself with the underwire from my bra. Just then I made eye contact with the young man who gathers up carts from the parking lot and returns them to the store. Poor kid; he blushed to the roots of his hair and rushed away.
This all reminded me of Wonderbras:
The Wonderbra was the right product with the right name at the right time. Introduced in the United States in May, 1994, it was an instant success, a phenomenon in the annals of lingerie consumerism. On Day One of the Wonderbra Era, stores sold out in mere hours, a buying frenzy fueled by early media hype. Push-up fever spread from Miami to Alaska.
SOURCE
I, too, caught Wonderbra fever, and purchased eight a few of them as soon as they became available. True, they looked marvelous, but here's the thing about the early Wonderbras: the padding was removable. Each cup contained what they called a "cookie" that slid into a little pocket and could be removed if one desired less enhancement. (Like that ever happens.) One afternoon I was on the escalator at the Galleria Mall in Houston with my friend Pittie70, wearing some sort of open-neck shirt over my Wonderbra, when I glanced down at my girls and saw a tarantula on my cleavage. I yelped, I swatted it away, and I sent the "tarantula" - one of my cookies - flying onto the heads of people below.
Back to boring but safe Playtex for me.
Let's talk about elastic. Shouldn't we be able to count on it? There was a time when women almost always wore pantyhose, but once in a while - with the right outfit - say, a longish skirt worn with boots - it was possible to get by with panties only. I was dressed thusly one morning and walking through downtown Houston to my job three blocks from the parking garage. Striding along I realized, to my horror, that the elastic holding my panties in place had failed and gravity was calling them home. What to do, what to do? What would you do? I let gravity do its thing and (rather gracefully, I thought) stepped out of the offending garment without breaking stride. Without a single glance back. With just a cool breeze now joining me on my walk to work.
Talk to Nurse Kelley. Has your underwear ever failed you?
DK4 UPDATE: If you have yet to visit the beta site, now's the time. I'll give you a link to this diary on DK4 so you can enjoy the comments posted there. One in particular is a Kos Klassic!