I never met my maternal great grandmother.
But from what I heard, she was awesome. And from what history says, she was probably awesome because she went through a lot of hard times – like The Great Depression, little food, tight funds, and shitty bras…? Yes. You heard me. There’s a lot of stuff our lady ancestors had to deal with while playing Suzy Seamstress and Connie Cook. And while we’ve all heard that every great guy has a great lady behind the scenes supporting him – who was supporting the ladies’ ladies behind the seams?
Some god awful undergarments, apparently.
Just to demonstrate how good we’ve all got it in the option department, some brave ass bishes tried out a few of these retro style boulder holders. While hilarious, I can’t help but wonder what was the method to the madness of the scientist charged with cup updates every so many years.
I mean, you go from a fabric version of an iron lung to a high slung, loosely tied kitchen apron? Or was this progression like a historical soon-to-be-repeated-in-the-70’s version of rebelling against belting down your pebbles? But instead of burning the boob straps, they just wrapped a few Ace bandages around the whole shiz as an afterthought and called it a day?
As for the pointy bras, I can’t help but wonder what poor pubescent boys (keep in mind – no internet back then), thought real boobs looked like. No wonder people were mostly good and chaste back in the 50’s. I mean, if I had to assume that what was underneath those cheerleading sweaters matched what I was seeing from the stands, then I might as well just settle for admiring Sandra D’s face in lieu. It’s probably the only non-terrifying part about her. You can keep your legs that’re probably are covered in fur which is why you need those hideous curtains to cover ‘em. And your clown hat tits. I don’t wanna get stabbed in the eye with your chesticles while I’m nether-stabbing my way through some strange follicular jungle. Screw that. Where’s Jesus? Let’s go to sit in a building and get yelled at by a man in a cape. I hear he’s giving backstage tours with special communion after the show. #catholicjokesnevergetold
Maybe that was the “point”.
To point peeps (literally with them thangs) back to religion.
Either way, we can all be thankful that today when we hit the gym, we won’t hit ourselves in the faces with our flapjacks. Like when we hit ourselves metaphorically over and over again for years by masochistically donning these unforgivable titty tethers of all types.
Great-grams would be so proud of me… (*Clasp, tuck, tuck*)