Hey party animals!


 I hope you have your game faces on because today is about to get wild.


I’m tickled to be co-hosting the Thoughts for Thursday Link Up with Annie, Natalie and Laura – and let me just say, if this is your first time here, I really do apologize for what you’re about to see. 





Thoughts for Thursday





First, let’s set the mood, shall we?





Many of you read my Ode to My Pre-Baby Boobs  and are well aware that I miss my favorite body parts like whoa. So what’s a girl to do? A lift will have to wait until the baby factory is closed for good so, for now, I need a solution to harness these pups on a day to day basis. 





A bra fitting is in order.





Meet Caroline.







We’ve been friends since the 7th grade, lived together in our early twenties and married best friends who we originally met in a bar on a girls night. Sadly, watching a stranger feel up my toplessness with a measuring tape doesn’t crack the top 10 of our most awkward situations together so she was roped in to coming along and documenting the experience.





Here is my advice when tackling a somewhat personal experience that you plan to blog:





Dink wine.





So, first we hit a bottle of Riesling and then we hit Nordstrom. 





(extra advice that I did not take myself: do your hair and apply makeup, even if your baby is screaming in your ear as you wrangle your mascara wand)





I was wearing maybe the worst possible outfit for a bra fitting – a silk shirt dress and boots – so first I had to find a pair of jeans and a tee so that I didn’t have to do the entire fitting in my underpants. 





Side Note: do not attempt to find jeans in Nordstrom if you are barely 4 months postpartum. I actually laid my hands on a pair of size 24 jeans. Are you kidding me? Is that a real size? I had to scrounge to find a pair of jeans that could be wrangled above my knees and then off we went to find the perfect sales associate to determine which of my boobs is bigger than the other.





I will give Caroline credit, she spotted Sherry from across the intimates section (while I was mocking a size J bra) and demanded that she be our girl. Thankfully, Sherry had a hell of a sense of humor and didn’t mind being photographed, seeing my stretch marks or hugging me when it was all over. 







Sherry rounded us up in a fitting room (with terrible yellowy lighting) and demanded to know the following:





how long ago had I given birth (exactly 4 months and 1 day ago)


was I nursing (nope)


did I know that I would probably be keeping my new boobs until a massive weight loss (um, no)





After the Boob Inquisition, she whipped out a yellow measuring tape and said “UP!” gesturing with both hands that it was time for to show her the goods.





Off came my dress, on squeezed the borrowed jeans and out came my ladies in all of their glory.





Oh yeah, my old bra was such the wrong size there was no need to measure my boobs while they were strapped into it because the measurements would be wildly incorrect.





 Naked measuring was our only option. 





I have to admit that I’m not modest at all and, frankly, I thought the entire situation was hilarious, so I didn’t bat an eye at the nudity potion of the afternoon. 





Sherry asked what size bra I was wearing. 





I flipped the tag of my Victoria’s Secret bra over and said “36 B”







And she laughed at me.





She said, “do you want my guess??”





“UH, yeah!” screamed Caroline (she really doesn’t have an inside voice).





and then Sherry said (are you ready?)…..





36 DDD





I died. 





Right there in Nordstrom.





Caroline laughed so hard she fell off of the stool she was using as a photographer’s perch and my mouth fell open so far I could have stuffed my old bra into it.







After a couple of rounds with fit bras, Sherry determined that she was a bit too generous in her initial guess and declared that I am officially a 36 DD. 







She brought me just the bras that I requested for my day to day life – a nude t-shirt style bra, a nude comfy bra with a bit of lace and, because I’m thoughtful, I asked for a black one for my husband’s sake.







Ya’ll, Sherry had to show me where my boobs were supposed to sit when wearing a bra. I had honestly forgotten how high they were supposed to be! At one point, she even put me in a bra that made cleavage! And not the armpit kind, the real kind.







In case your are hesitant to go for a bra fitting, I will say that I never felt pressured or that she was trying to make a sale – there were many bras that Sherry herself would lasso onto me and then immediately unhook because she didn’t like the cup shape or style on me or my girls. 







In all, I purchased three new bras (for a total of $206 – not cheap, but honestly, I let things get so bad that I had to start my bra wardrobe from scratch) all perfectly fitted by Sherry to my shape and body. Each strap was adjusted appropriately (the straps shouldn’t be the same length because no one is symmetrical – I told Sherry that I used to be symmetrical and she told me that I was delusional) and the cup shape of each was selected just for my new post baby ta tas. 







(yes, those are my best dance moves. try not to be jealous)





I was so pleased with how my shape looked after my boobs were hoisted above my belly button that I asked if I could wear one of my new bras home. As Sherry swiped my credit card, I asked her what I should do with my old bra. 















She told me most people toss them in her trash can.



And I had to agree, that seemed appropriate. 
 So long, weird, oddly shaped post baby boobs!





And hello mom bras that don’t give me red shoulder welts.





(don’t mind me, I just brought sexy back. ya’ll are welcome!)





Thanks again to Annie (who is now probably regretting her decision) for inviting me to co-host today’s link up!  



An InLinkz Link-up