What's The Difference? All Bras Hold Up The Same...Not!

Dear Women of the World:


This is G. Eric Francis, the purveyor to nil when it comes to my spittle...I wanted to write to you in reference to, well, one of my favorite things in the world. I mean, even since I was, oh, 8 years old, I have been fascinated by it...its different shapes, styles, colors, clasps, and all around goodness (and issues fighting gravity as time passes in one's lifetime). An attractive piece will make me drink your bathwater even if you were bleeding at that time of the month (hell, its just like Kool-Aid, isn't it?) while the grandmother special will, well, I'll still look, but then I won't look at a map the same ever again, as the veins and wrinkles on the package it contains remind me of the map of California.

Ladies, I am talking about da boulder holders, the man pillow guardians, the Vickie of the Secrets...the incredible, snap unhooking braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeere!!


Da bra.


Yeah, it seems silly, a man of my age writing a post about undergarments as he is some horny teenager, trying to see if the girl he's checking out is wearing a leopard print special with matching panties. But for whatever reason, a woman's choice of undergarment, especially when I was single, was a big determining factor if I would continue to pursue the woman or not. But one of my big interests (and downfalls a lot of times in my life) has been the female gender (like most men), and their physical attributes, and the packaging involved.


Let me tell you a story...I mentioned in one of my previous blogs about a young lady named Juliet that was my first truly great love. She was also the young lady whom I first went beyond a kiss with. Juliet, I found, had a propensity to wear black bras...nothing super fancy, but as black is my favorite color (and it isn't because I am considered as such; I am more of a deep brown, like a well done steak) it was utterly fascinating to me as a 16 year old kid who actually had a girl who wanted to play with my growing grass field and pole vault stick.


Beyond the fact that Juliet had awesome, well, "love stacks", her brassiere, while rather simple (girls didn't do the low cut bras and thongs as they do today...my loss); hell, it was pretty much the "Playtex special" (more on that later), to a 2 time loser like moi , that "cross your heart" was like the bomb. That really got me, well, "hooked" (sorry, bad pun...and I never did the radiator bra removal practicing thing).

Ever since I slipped my first pillow with the fun buttons in the middle out of that "boulder holder", I've been fascinated with this wonderful piece of clothing. I mean, hell, I should of been the guy who thought of "Victoria's Secret." Shit, that is one little "secret" I'd of kept to myself.

So ladies, here is my query...this was prompted by one day while at a department store, I overheard a couple of women who were, well, "past their firmness prime" (those puppies were like making nipple dents on the floor from bouncing south every time those two took a step, OK?), discussing what is the best bra for their purposes.

OK...

Isn't a bra, like, well, a bra?

Let's look at the definition of the brassiere, shall we?

A Bra is...

"a woman's undergarment for covering and supporting the breasts [from brassiere]."

Sooooooooo....

Why is there a discussion on this? I mean, hell, this is the way I see it...

At the age of, say, 10 to 13, unless u have some sort of "Boobsplosion", u r gonna be doing the training bra thing. Nothing sexy about those...unless u name is R. Kelly.


From 14 till about, say, 30...these are the prime brassiere years...because, unless u are so fat that one cannot tell where the breasts begin and the stomach ends, these are when those girls are up, firm, and ready to be packaged like Christmas wrapping. Lace, front closure (my personal favorite; it's like a "Knocks in a box" when you unhook those puppies), different designs, low plunging, the whole carnival of "man pillow" goodness.

Then, sigh....the 30's and beyond...gravity becomes Satan, and unless you and silicon have a close personal relationship like Christians do with Jesus, then the support issues come into play, and the pretty, fun wrapping is replaced with fruit cake variety boredom.

I bet you are thinking...this pig doesn't have a clue. And u r probably right. My wife is rather, well, "busty", and she has made me swear to take a hatchet to her lovelies if I ever win the lottery. While this would make me sad, I guess they are murdering her back. (Of course, I plan to package the cut-off portions in a mason jar, so that I can stare at them and sigh, remembering the good times I had with them).

Now her trade off for doing this for her is that she claims she would get sexier brassieres for my visual pleasure. Which, while it would make me happier than a lobster jumping out of a Red Lobster before death, it still brings me back to my question...

What's the difference?

Well, I guess this proves why men are, well, stupid.

You ladies have bras for support, for breastfeeding, for seduction, to avoid "THO's" (if ya don't know what that is, you better ask somebody). It also goes along with putting on makeup to get friggin' bread, or doing the laundry, cleaning the house, or all the other things you have to do because men either mess it up or are too lazy to do it (playing with their testes while watching the game). So, I probably have no right to ask such a question, as that I have no idea what a pain in the ass breasts are to you.

So, I depart with this...while I appreciate the front closure, black model with boobage flowing out special, as that I have no clue how to deal with carrying up to 20 lbs each (for those Dolly Parton girls without the help Dolly got; c'mon, at 60+, no way those puppies sit up like that with just super bra-straps), or leaking when your kid is hungry, or getting the shit squeezed out of them in the hopes you don't find a lump, I will leave my question unanswered...unless you care to answer it for me...

In the meanwhile, I once again tip my hat to the crap women have to deal with on a daily basis. No way u r the "weaker sex."

(Note, for those women who are under "C" cup size, you don't have an excuse. Get a Vicky Secrets card, ok?"