I haven’t had a cold for at least a year, I think, and now I’ve got one along with a nasty cough and a bit of a fever. And to top it off, the boiler is broken – so no heat or hot water.
I felt marginally better today, and one can’t sit in Starbucks taking advantage of free heating and wifi all day, so I dragged myself around to a handful of press days. What is a press day, you ask? It’s when a fashion/jewelry/makeup brand parades its wares before journalists, usually with free food and a goody bag to sweeten the package. I used to use them as an excuse to get out of the office – now, it seems, I’m using them for their heating. (And oh, OK, it’s not a bad idea to get some facetime with the PRs.)
The unfortunate thing about the goody bags is that they very rarely have anything I myself want, and nor is the stuff either eBayable (I’ve seen it there, though) or even, dare I say it, re-giftable. It is often just random, random, random. Today, however, a swimsuit brand PR sized me up and asked me if I’d like my free bikini in a UK size 8 or 10. When I paused – frankly, quite startled at the prospect of myself in a bikini at any size – she pressed the 8 on me. “You’re tiny,” she said. Um, thanks. I guess today’s goody bag haul, minimal though it was (hey, we’re in a recession), came with an ego boost, and for that, I should be grateful.
I also picked up quite possibly the most useful piece of information I’ve ever picked up at a press day (this alone should tell you how generally useful I find these meet-and-greet fests). A lingerie brand was offering a bra fitting, and who was I to refuse? Anyway, most of my friends like to tease me about being evangelical about Rigby & Peller (aka the Queen of England’s corsetiers) – a properly fitting bra really has changed my life. But today I learned that it’s not just the fit – it’s the shape, and apparently I’ve been wearing the wrong kind. (I saw for myself in the mirror – it was fairly startling.) Basically, it boils down to this: If you’ve lost weight and your chest is saggy (or it’s saggy for any reason), you want a balconette bra, not a pushup one. A pushup just shoves the loose skin and sag upward.
Right. Taking my coughing, germ-bomb self back to bed. Tomorrow’s topic: How being ill messes with my head (foodwise) more than any fever dream.
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What is a balconette bra? It sounds like I might need one of these...
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear you're sick. Hope you and your boiler get better soon!
That's very useful. Honestly, the saggy boobs are the only 'side effect' of weightloss that I'd rather do without. It's quite depressing. maybe I'll get a boob lift one day. ;) when finances allow....
ReplyDeleteI think it's balconette that I prefer - now I know why! Although, as you know, I'm having real problems with bras at the moment anyway.
ReplyDeleteKeep warm - even if that means moving in to Starbucks.
Looking forward to that next post you mention.
love
Peridot x
That info is worth a thousand insider trading tips! I hate the deflated (ahem) look of my chest post-weight loss, and I've got a lot more to go. I shudder to think what the end result might look like. Scary! I have actually contemplated a lift when I'm really sure I've reached and maintained my goal weight for a while. But I don't want implants -- too weird to bolt some random plastic to my sternum -- and the actual technical details of a lift (removing nipple, cutting skin, sewing nipple back on) leaves me sick to my stomach. And convinced that the resulting scar-covered mess would be far worse than saggy natural boobs. I think. But a girl can dream of a firm bustline, and maybe buy a good bra or two, without fear of permanent damage, thank goodness! Hope your cold goes soon.
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