I spent an uneventful evening yesterday looking for an "honest" bra. My chest is as 2 dimensional as the South China Plain. Despite that, I am still expected to wear a strangling and restrictive, sweat-retaining, presumably-supportive inner clothing accessory commonly known as the rude three letter word -- the bra.
My entire evening was as fruitless as traumatised my chest was, with all the trying-ons of ridiculously conical bras which the measly amount of flesh I have been endowed with could not fill. I hate wearing falsees, yet I am not brave enough to go strutting in public with a mere piece of cloth with no shape to cover the vulgar looking dots.
I went up to countless bra-selling assistants and made my case clear, Do you have anything for me? I'm very Bi (Hokkien for flat), like Primary 4 girl, but I don't want the training bras, must be able to wear T-shirt wan.
[Terminology for non-bra-wearing humans: A training bra is made of cloth only; it has no cup shape. As its name suggests, it is meant to train pubescent girls, at an average age of 7 years my junior, who are beginning to grow there, to get accustomed to the cruel practice of wearing a proper bra.]
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