Everyone wants to build a better mousetrap. And by mousetrap, I mean bra. And navigating the choices is really no better than trying to find a humane mousetrap. Although, honestly, mousetraps may actually be more humane than most bras.
So this horrible thing happened, and then another horrible thing happened: in December 2016, doctors diagnosed me with celiac, forcing me into a gluten-free lifestyle. That meant a couple of things, and it turns out the least of these things was eating gluten-free bread. It meant my body slowly stopped malnourishing itself, and that meant I could eat at the same rate I always had and gain weight. Did that sound like a good thing? I didn't mean for it to.
Forty pounds — and many cry-fests — later, I've migrated from a nice, shapely 36C to a… well, see, that's where it gets tricky. If I go by my old standby, the Victoria's Secret T-shirt bra, I'm a 36DDD, but for some reason the bra that fits me in the pink dressing room gives me not two but four breasts in real life, because the cups actually split each breast in two, horizontally.
So I turn to the magical world of online bra shopping, lured by the promises of ThirdLove: "You deserve a comfortable fit." No shit, but so far, that's not happening. I take their 60-second fit test and ThirdLove tells me 36E. A few weeks later I open the box — and Third Love spares no trees in their shipping, which makes it feel a little like lingerie Christmas — and find a simple bra that…
Doesn't fit. I exchange it for a larger size, a 36F, and then notice an ad on my Facebook feed for Knix. Knix has the 8-in-1 Evolution bra, a seamless bra that calls itself "the world's most advanced bra."
Folks, I'm not going to waste your time with a breast-by-breast account of why each bra didn't work. Knix, though, encouraged me to wear the bra for 30 days before returning it, which I did. In that time, I alternated between the dreaded uniboob and the bisected boobs.
Bra shopping sucks, but it turns out, mail-order bra shopping sucks more. By consistently ordering the wrong size bra, I had instant gratification in reverse: I immediately had a bra that didn't fit but I had to wait at least a week to get one that did. This never happened when I ordered my trusty Victoria's Secret bras online — because I'd been fitted in real life by a person who knew what she was doing (read: not me with a tape measure).
But the allure of finding the best bra ever wooed me: Kickstarter, at any time, has a bevy of "best bra you will ever wear" startups begging for your money. As we go to press with this, there are 117 bra startups on Kickstarter, with Knix at the top of the list for funding raised ($1.1 million). Also of note — many of these startup bra companies feel… offensive.
Take Trusst, billed as a "wireless engineered support" and wow, doesn't that sound sexy? You know what's even sexier? Their video, which uses all sorts not not-at-all-offensive visual euphemisms for breasts: mounds, headlights… you get the idea.
Keep going — it gets worse. Fitesse — another woman-owned Kickstarter lingerie company — eschews lettered cup sizes for fruits. As in, you're not an A cup; you're a Blueberry. Seems innocuous enough until you get to the big-girl sizes: Honeydew, watermelon, coconut and pumpkin. I feel so respected as a person. Alas, they cannot fit me to one of their customized bras. Apparently my breasts simply aren't customizable.
True & Co. tells me — after an extensive "fit quiz" — they don't make bras in my size, either. In essence, I've failed the quiz. Awesome.
This is why so many women walk out of department stores in tears. It's why I don't want to go back to a department store to find a bra. It's why I'm sorely tempted to live in the Jala yoga bra I bought IRL at The Body Electric. It's why I decide on the ThirdLove bras — they aren't even my fourth or fifth love, but they fit better than anything else I've tried — despite one reader's warning:
"I've purchased and worn ThirdLove bras. Not the best for comfort, and start to fall apart in less than six months with only wearing twice a week," Kristin Kelley emailed me when I asked CL followers about their experiences with mail-order bras. Kelley said she ordered ThirdLove and, like me, really liked them — but then the honeymoon ended. "I was the same, loved the first, got a few more and they just didn't cut it, comfort-wise after a few washings. I usually wash my bras every two weeks, in a bag, cold water and hang to dry. The wires started poking thru after about four months."
Within a month, my ThirdLove bras, indeed, start to cut into me. I fear the end is near for these bras — and, given that I'm spending $68 per bra on these, I'm not happy.
Which is why tonight I'm headed back to Dillard's to buy my bras the old-fashioned way. Because my weight has me at a larger bra size than last year and, as much as I love Victoria's Secret bras, they're not made to last with heavier breasts (I had a Dillard's certified fitter, which means she'd taken special training and fitted at least 100 sets of breasts, tell me a D-cup breast weighs 20 pounds). As much as I hate to leave the house, there's something to be said for those cold-handed fitters at Dillard's — and their boring, 20th-century designs.
Contact Cathy Salustri here.
This article appears in Apr 5-12, 2018.