Marshmallows

When I turned 65 and eligible for Medicare, I decided it was time to revisit my bra size.

To all of you who are rolling your eyes and thinking “thanks for sharing” or “don’t go there”, my apologies. Underwear, in particular, underwear that fits, is one of life’s essentials.

It was time for me to get a professional fitting, the last one having taken place in the summer of 1966 in a store near stewardess school in Des Plaines, Illinois, when I weighed a mere 128 pounds.

I presented myself at JC Penney’s lingerie department to a nice lady who looked ready to help. “I need some assistance selecting a new bra size,” I say. “The size I’ve been wearing for years, well, I seem to have puffy parts hanging out over the edges in the front.”

“Got marshmallows, eh?” says my helper. OMG, there’s a name for it! Nothing new under the sun.

My nice lady brings options for me to try on, one after another. You guys have no idea how hard it is to shop for a bra! Girls really do have all different shapes, and it can take all afternoon to find something that suits. Time to think back…

I’ve always had great boobs. If there was anything I could take pride in about my body, that was it. Not too big, not too small. Enough to make an impression. I’ve worked diligently to contain them presentably and comfortably through the years, but I must admit that a certain pudginess has crept in with my advancing age.

I remember a little orange and tan bikini in Hawaii that I could actually wear without dying of embarrassment. In middle age, I wore supportive contraptions for running and dancing that made me feel trapped in bands of steel but kept me from flopping all over the place. Once I even tried going topless at a laissez faire beach in France. And lately, I’ve experimented with leisure bras—an excellent innovation, for I don’t fall out of them when I bend over in the garden, weeding.

So it’s a more generously proportioned over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder for me. (Can you even imagine, young people, especially you lithe bodies in my jazz class, that some day you too will reach this stage?) I guess if it puts an end to marshmallows, I can live with that.