Everything has to be sporty it seems.
Men who wear sports jackets are deemed to be cool and self confident.
Cars that are labeled as sporty make those who drive them seem to be a little more intelligent than the driver of a seven seater van full of car seats and muddied license plates.
Going out to a Sports Bar on a Saturday night , or any night for that matter, implies that you are with it, got it , and want to meet others who have it as well.
Yes, personalities, mechanical devices, and clothing for men have long been described in terms of the general adjective of Sports. In fact, it has probably only been recently, I am guessing the last 20 years, that this adjective has been attributed to that often beguiling, burned, and bejewelled piece of woman's apparel referred to as the 'Bra'-- pronounced BR--Ah --(the sound one makes when it is off ).
I am referring, of course, to that piece of spandex, elastic, rubber, padded, one piece, super soft and oh so super strong device designed to compress, hold, hug, and support one's mammeries in total submission and stillness no matter what physical activity the rest of the body to which they are connected to are doing whether it be climbing, crawling, running, or breathing--the Sports Bra!
After having recently purchased not one but two of these devices on the advice of one of my ( I am assuming well meaning) co workers I eagerly went home to try on my new snazzy sports purchase while looking forward to the delight of soft but firm support 'in all activities' as was advertised on the label.
Wanting to partake of the full experience of 'new' I decided to have a refreshing shower before I tried out my new body image device. I toweled off with anticipation. I released the soft new white piece of apparel from its cardboard holder and examined my purchase closely..
Noticing almost immediately that shoulder straps, cups , and back bracing thick elastic cross straps were all permanently sewn together without any opening clasps I started to pull this symbol of sports and health eagerly over my head.
As it seemed a bit snug (but aren't all things new and worth it snug these days?), I decided that perhaps more force might be necessary to pull the whole of the bra over my shoulders while at the same time putting my arms through the vaguely distinguishable arm holes.
Success!
But wait...the arms went through the openings but alas only part way and as a consequence of moisture from the fresh shower and the consequential roping of the cups and rolling of the back cross straps, the new purchase of spandex and support quickly became something that one could liken to a saddle cinch that one finds strapped from one side of the underbelly of a horse to another.
The more one squirmed, the more one wiggled, the more one swore, that rope like tangle of synthetic fabric held on to skin, fat, and muscle every bit of tight as a boa constrictor hangs on to its first meal in a month.
With arms bound up in the air like a bank teller held at gun point , perspiration beading not only upon my brow but on other and under various body parts constricted and exposed , I managed to kick at the bathroom door while breathlessly calling for Help!
Thankfully I was not alone, thankfully someone was home, thankfully I did not have to try to phone.
* I personally refer to these articles as Br--aaas (long a for the
phonetically alert) .
-- Don't ask me why but I think it might be that I am Canadian.
Men who wear sports jackets are deemed to be cool and self confident.
Cars that are labeled as sporty make those who drive them seem to be a little more intelligent than the driver of a seven seater van full of car seats and muddied license plates.
Going out to a Sports Bar on a Saturday night , or any night for that matter, implies that you are with it, got it , and want to meet others who have it as well.
Yes, personalities, mechanical devices, and clothing for men have long been described in terms of the general adjective of Sports. In fact, it has probably only been recently, I am guessing the last 20 years, that this adjective has been attributed to that often beguiling, burned, and bejewelled piece of woman's apparel referred to as the 'Bra'-- pronounced BR--Ah --(the sound one makes when it is off ).
I am referring, of course, to that piece of spandex, elastic, rubber, padded, one piece, super soft and oh so super strong device designed to compress, hold, hug, and support one's mammeries in total submission and stillness no matter what physical activity the rest of the body to which they are connected to are doing whether it be climbing, crawling, running, or breathing--the Sports Bra!
After having recently purchased not one but two of these devices on the advice of one of my ( I am assuming well meaning) co workers I eagerly went home to try on my new snazzy sports purchase while looking forward to the delight of soft but firm support 'in all activities' as was advertised on the label.
Wanting to partake of the full experience of 'new' I decided to have a refreshing shower before I tried out my new body image device. I toweled off with anticipation. I released the soft new white piece of apparel from its cardboard holder and examined my purchase closely..
Noticing almost immediately that shoulder straps, cups , and back bracing thick elastic cross straps were all permanently sewn together without any opening clasps I started to pull this symbol of sports and health eagerly over my head.
As it seemed a bit snug (but aren't all things new and worth it snug these days?), I decided that perhaps more force might be necessary to pull the whole of the bra over my shoulders while at the same time putting my arms through the vaguely distinguishable arm holes.
Success!
But wait...the arms went through the openings but alas only part way and as a consequence of moisture from the fresh shower and the consequential roping of the cups and rolling of the back cross straps, the new purchase of spandex and support quickly became something that one could liken to a saddle cinch that one finds strapped from one side of the underbelly of a horse to another.
The more one squirmed, the more one wiggled, the more one swore, that rope like tangle of synthetic fabric held on to skin, fat, and muscle every bit of tight as a boa constrictor hangs on to its first meal in a month.
With arms bound up in the air like a bank teller held at gun point , perspiration beading not only upon my brow but on other and under various body parts constricted and exposed , I managed to kick at the bathroom door while breathlessly calling for Help!
Thankfully I was not alone, thankfully someone was home, thankfully I did not have to try to phone.
* I personally refer to these articles as Br--aaas (long a for the
phonetically alert) .
-- Don't ask me why but I think it might be that I am Canadian.
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