I've had the same four bras for over 20 years. That's not a typo or an exaggeration--it's the truth. I don't know why I've had the same bras for twenty years. It wasn't planned or done on purpose...it just happened.
I don't own the same furniture, or work at the same job, or live in the same house...hell, I've switched husbands...but I own the same bras? It's weird and totally bizarro world.
I can't explain why I haven't worn different bras in over TWO DECADES. Honestly, I've never, ever, once thought about it. Ever. Not once.
Here's what I think happened. I found bras I liked. I bought four of them, all the same type, size, and color. And that was it. Four bras, twenty-something years ago. The End.
Only in the last year or so did I start to think it was time to buy new bras. One day one of them ripped near the clasp. Another one felt a little stretched out on one side. One of the hooks stopped working on a third one. They became an annoyance and a little uncomfortable, but they're just worn under my clothes. Who even notices your bra, right? It's not like you're walking around with a unibrow that everyone can see.
A year ago in passing I mentioned my "bra situation" to a client and she audibly gasped (thanks, Valerie) and proclaimed, "YOU MUST GET NEW BRAS IMMEDIATELY." She even told me what kind to buy. "Wacoal is the best. Go to Nordstrom or Dillard's. They have them. You won't be sorry. Do it." I promised I would, but I never did.
After a while I forgot about my "bra situation" and went about my business. Seriously, I have so many other things going on than to worry about the sock puppets holding my twins in place. The twins would have to handle things while the grown-ups get shit done.
Mind you, at this point I still have no idea that the "bra situation" is even a real thing. I really believed I was fine. I was fully covered, there was no sagging or floppage, and I'm laundered, regularly. What's the big deal? Twenty-year old bras are as good as 2017 year old bras. Or whatever. You know what I mean.
Then yesterday my husband and I went to a department store to get comfortable walking shoes for our trip to Italy next week. (I just reread that last sentence and now I feel like I'm hundred years old. Comfortable walking shoes? Who am I, my grandmother?)
Anyway, yes. Shoes. After successfully finding the above-mentioned, we passed through the undergarments section on the way out to the car. Jeff pointed at the rows and rows of bras and said, "Bras. Get new ones. Please."
So now he's aware of the "bra situation" that really wasn't a situation but now is? This was getting confusing. And now I'm sitting here writing a story about bras that is probably the least interesting subject to write about. Yet still.
Long story short, I bought four new bras and my life is changed forever, I can't believe that I didn't do this years ago. Who knew bras would be the answer to everything. THE END.