Stop The Muffin-Top Bra


I don’t talk much about fashion though I have to say I definitely have some strong opinions on it. The other night I was watching late late night TV.. couldn’t sleep.. and came across a waste of time called “The Wendy Williams Show” which I watched mostly because I was doing other things and not caring a whole lot about what was on.

Then she started talking about fashion and had a fashion expert on the show. The fashion expert had some good tips, so I paid attention.

Then Wendy and a guest (not the fashionista) began to talk about bra selection. They both said that they thought (or used to think) that having that little bubble of breast hanging over the top of the bra was sexy. They both had been told by fashion experts to buy larger (better fitting) bras.

Dear Women of the World.. (men if you disagree please comment and tell me why)

Wearing your boobs out in public in a bra that is too small causing your boobs to bubble over the top or outside of the bra.. IS DISGUSTING!

Its not sexy. It makes you look like you’re fashion stupid or poor (can’t afford an appropriately sized bra) or just a trashy woman without any taste.

Please please please.. go into your nearest department store or lingerie shop with knowledgeable staff and get yourself measured for an appropriate size.

Unlike our shoes.. our boobs size can change at the drop of a hat. Weight gain. Weight loss. Even time of the month (hormonal) can cause size changes.. which in some women can be very significant. So you may need a couple choices of fits.

For most of us women, our boobs are one of our greatest selling features when dating. When we want to look good, a good bra can sometimes make or break an outfit. (Not to mention what a good bra can do for the .. umm.. gym. – As my childhood friend said about my sister as she ran to first base in softball “Holy Cow! She could knock herself out with those.”)

Honestly women.. I cannot stress this enough.. when it comes to fashion.. to looking good.. to making an impression.. a good fitting bra is essential.

A muffin-top bra is never acceptable. So stop it… stop it now!


New Years Eve 2009

Purple Dress for NYEI’m a little late with posting. I know you all were sitting on pins and needles waiting to hear about my Fabulous New Years Eve!

I put on my sexy purple dress and black strappy heel/sandals. The Swarovski crystal necklace I made for my wedding but never wore, and sterling & crystal chandelier earrings. (see pics)

If I do say so myself, I looked fabulous!

My first party to go to, I ended up getting there late (if you’re noticing a trend, don’t worry I’ll add it to my new years resolutions) and wouldn’t be able to spend much time. But I brought them a bottle of champagne, and said hi.  They were having a lazy but really cool NYE party, mostly just girls, watching old cheesy girly movies (Josie & the Pussycats), eating some good food and drinking. Later they were going to break out some board games and cards. They were all comfy in pj’s and snuggies. This is what I’ll be doing next year I think.

Necklace & Earrings NYE 2009

My second party was swanky in a condo downtown which is why I dressed as I did. While he adheres to Austin’s dress code (anything goes) for his parties, everyone is usually dressed up. Dressy suits are not uncommon and cocktail dresses are the generally accepted norm.

My nemesis was there btw. I’ve decided to just start calling her that. I honestly couldn’t care less about Meg anymore, it just irks me that she doesn’t even acknowledge me in public. She won’t even say “excuse me” to me if she bumps into me or ask to pass by. If I’m talking to someone she wants to talk to, she will wait until I leave or come up and talk to them as if I’m not even there. Its hilarious. (She’s mentioned a couple times in my blog – OMG Like Seriously? HS Still Happens, Women Who Hate Women )

The catty girl in me took great pride in the fact that she showed up in a worn out cardigan over some boring shirt with worn jeans. I didn’t even bother looking at her shoes.

While I finally spotted a mutual friend of ours not being  monopolized by her (a guy she considers hers, and probably the reason she no longer speaks to me, I’m just guessing here) I went over to say Hi. Sadly I found out that he is also among the fold of the unemployed. We had a great chat. I was surprised that Meg let us chat until I saw that Meg took that opportunity to mingle with my friends at the party.

I thought it hilarious. My friends only knew her by “That ex-friend-bitch” and not her name. So as soon as I’d finished talking to our friend, I went over to socialize with my friends despite her being there. She saw me arrive at the group and left without a word. My friends looked a little taken aback by her sudden leaving, but shrugged it off.

It was then that I mentioned, “Just so you know, since you probably won’t ever see her again, remember that girl I told you about who was a close friend then suddenly put the hate-on for me and I don’t know why? yeah thats her.”

Cassie said, “Really? Wow.”

We then discussed why Meg may have a hate-on for me. I mentioned that I thought it was because of the guy, that she’d misconstrued me talking to him or something. Cassie saw the guy which I’d pointed out.

“Him? Really? I didn’t know she had  crush on him. Wonder if that’s why she dislikes me too.”

I didn’t want to tell Cassie this, but Meg would dislike Cassie for several reasons. Cassie is thin and hot and single (she used to be a pageant queen). Cassie dated J (the host, a guy Meg also seems to have “dibs” on but will never get). Cassie is nice to everyone. And lastly Meg would not like her, because Cassie is friends with me.

While this was the smallest snippet of the night, it was the most entertaining. J had set up a music video montage that gave me a whole new perspective of him. J is usually very reserved unless drunk then he gets annoying, but never is crass or even remotely ungentlemanly. So the video montage was quite the conversation. While we all know J has a sexual side, most of us have never ever seen it or even hints at it. The entire montage was video of semi-naked to naked women. Some were music videos, some was video of  some 1960’s experiment or some revealing sexual education video. All the shots were tasteful like soft porn or classier versions of soft porn, but still rather pornographic. It was no wonder people warned me on my arrival that something was wrong with J.

J himself seemed fine just a little down. Its not an easy time to be single, so hopefully its just that.

The rest of the evening was flattering with various compliments from various people. An old “friend” who has always wanted to be more, but leans a little too much to the kooky-crasy side for my comfort, spent most of the evening complimenting me and telling me how much I’m missed. He’s sweet. I so wish I could like him back like that. It’s still flattering though.

And while, I had to keep hands off, when I first arrived to the party I met Cassie and her friends. Cassie, Mel and Mel’s date.  Mel’s date was obviously a boob man, and when I arrived and actually most of the rest of the night, made priority to talk to me whenever I was near him and Mel.  Unfortunately for Mel, she’s flat chested so I don’t see them lasting very long.  It’s usually a very bad sign for a flat chested girl if their man’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree when someone with boobs enters.

Most of the evening though, I spent talking to this girl I used to dislike. She’s gorgeous, sweet, nice, and exotic. She’s Indian and like a size 2 naturally. She comes off as very aloof and prissy if you don’t know her and a bit of a bitch. She’s not. She’s just shy and only feel comfortable talking to people she knows. So it just appears that she doesn’t like you because she’s not talking to you, but she’s all sorts of friendly and social with everyone else.

A few months ago, on some kind of star-crossed fluke, she became comfortable with me. I have no idea what happened or when, but suddenly she started talking to me and being friendly. She’s not the ulterior motives kind of girl, so I was a little taken back until I realized she’s just really shy.

We had a great time talking and laughing. We might become good girlfriends yet.

When the clock struck midnight, I was sitting next to her and her boyfriend and watched them kiss.  For once, I wasn’t looking around “OMG someone kiss me”. I was happy and content to just enjoy being there with friends.  Had someone kissed me, it probably would have ruined the purity of moment.

It was a new year. This one of freedom, love of myself, confidence, and self-security. While tomorrow I’ll post a whole list of improvements, for now though I’m ok with just being me.

Gotta Go Out to Get Out

Earlier this week, I plotted out my social calendar. Which group events to go to, and which ones to miss. I had decided that Thursday night I’d to go to a singles event at a bar I’d never heard of but according to maps was close by.

I rarely go to singles events but earlier this week decided it’d be a good idea, so I had it on my mental calendar.  I also had promised a new girlfriend that I’d go to a matinee of “New Moon” with her today, so my calendar was a little “full” for a weekday.

It’s still bitter cold outside, and while not raining today, still miserable. So after the movie today, I was freezing and decided to just go home and find the space heater, a blanket, and some hot cocoa.

I completely had forgotten that I’d let it slip to Gety that I had planned to attend this singles event. So as I’m walking in my apartment, she texts me.

“Are you coming tonight?”

I replied that I was thinking of canceling and asked if there was much of a crowd. She said there wasn’t but it was still early (6pm).  I debated with myself whether or not to go, while I did my hair and makeup.

Then Gety texts: “Besides I owe you a beer. Oh and they put out free food. Get over here!”

So I change out of my comfy shoes and into my “heels”.  Dressing this week has been challenging.  Monday night I fell down and scraped up my knee pretty good. It actually didn’t completely stop bleeding til Tuesday night.  Raw, and sore, the scrape made wearing pants an impossibility unless I wanted to reopen the wound and be in pain with every step as the material moved over it.  So during what is probably the coldest week Austin has seen this year, I was sentenced to wearing skirts.

This summer I actually stocked up on lots of summer dresses, but my winter wear is usually black pants or jeans.  So I haven’t had a whole lot of options this week.  So today I decide to get inventive.  I wanted comfort, style, and warmth, with comfort and warmth being the two highest priorities when I got dressed for the movie.  I couldn’t find a skirt that matched the comfy sexy sweater I wanted to wear, so I did some digging and found a dress that I hadn’t worn.  I actually forgot I had it.  I bought it because it made my boobs look fan-freaking-tastic, and never wore it because it clung a little too tightly around the waist.  The dress matched the sweater, so I threw on the dress with the sweater overtop.  It looked like a skirt & sweater combo, and figured what the hell.  Accessorized it with some of my best jewelry, and went out.

I got nothing but compliments on it. Terms like “Hot” “Smoking” and “Girl you look GOOD.” were used.  (Maybe I need to be a little more desperate for outfits more often)

Anyway, I get there and Gety is all sorts of apologizing for skipping out on my Freedom Party and buys my drinks all night.  So I think I’ll forgive her.

After saying my hellos to Gety, I go to the entrance table and pay the “party fee” of $3 and get a name tag. The woman behind the table is telling me all about a singles group she organizes. It’s for singles 40-60 years old, and she’s telling me all about how I’d be a perfect fit. Then she sees my facial expression and says “Oh I’m sorry is that not the age range you’re looking in?”  I could have slapped her, as her tone was as if I should be because I’m that old. I told her I might go as high as 46, but older than that is starting to get into Daddy-issues that I don’t have.  She looked at me like she didn’t believe me.  (Actually my problem is less actual age and more along the lines of “If you look like your my dad’s age, then no”)

Normally I get mistaken for 25-30, so her telling me I was well over 40… my self-perception took a big hit.  So I head back to the table where Gety was talking to some girls and I sound off. Gety laughs. The other girls very nicely said “You don’t look a day over 30.”  Phew.  It’s less concerning looking my age, but to go from passing for 30 to being accused of being over 40 in the span of a week.. can really make a girl wonder about her beauty regimen.

We meander around on my insistence. Gety would be more than happy to sit in the corner at a table talking to a group of girls. She’s not really dated much in a decade of her own choice, and finally admitted that she was thinking it was about time to start again. Go Gety Go.

So we go mingle. I’m walking through the crowd. Most of them are way too old for me, so I continue walking. I’m about to the other side of the crowd when this handsome man is suddenly in my way.  While facing me, he moves to let me pass if I want, but as our eyes meet he says..

“Hi….”  He actually said much more than Hi. I believe there was a question with it, but I was so shocked by the “Hi” that I honestly can’t recall what he said.  I know I said something back to him, and we both moved out of the pathway to talk to each other.

Drew then asked me my age. I looked at him like he’d just grown three heads. (Seriously? Never ask a woman her age unless you’re thinking she’s under 18.) But as I thought about the age range of men I just passed through, I stifled a giggle. He might have been a little justified in asking, as he looked maybe 30.. maybe.

I asked him his age. He said he couldn’t tell me.  I figured fair play, ok.  I didn’t really care that much anyway. I could tell enough from looking at him that he was at least in my age range.  He did say that whatever age I thought he was to add 10 yrs.  I told him that usually people thought of me as younger as well.  He guaranteed me that he was older, which I highly doubt.

He’d ask me a question. I’d answer, and return it with a similar answer. He’d dodge the question. When I complained that he was being unfair, he said he was just joking around but still didn’t answer the question.  I ignored it thinking maybe if I stuck it out a little things might improve.

The singles group had us all playing this game, which I was somehow included in but never told the rules. All I knew was that people had a celebrity name on their back. Next I learned that we were to ask people questions about our celebrity in order to guess it. Yay, stupid games!  It actually was kind of fun, but irritating.

Drew and I began quizzing each other and trying to guess our celebrities and really began to flirt. That’s when Gety came over. I seriously wanted to kill her. We were having a great flirt on, and then she interrupted and didn’t leave.  I tried to ask Drew a question about my celebrity, and she’d interrupt and not answer it.  She did finally leave, but only after she’d opened Drew and I up to having to talk to a bunch of other people as well. By the time she left, Drew had been pulled off to his other side talking to two other women about their celebrities.  He stayed talking to them for a while, and so I moved on. If he really wanted to talk to me he’d talk to me.

I talked to a few other guys. None of which seemed that into me. They weren’t all that either, so I flirted, smiled, and moved on.  Bored and tired, I decided to go home.  I was saying my goodbyes to Gety, when I noticed Drew on the other side of the bar.  I remembered his games of not answering my questions, so I figured I’d go over and ruin whatever flirt he had going on with whatever girl he was talking to.

He was friend talking to this girl that Gety had introduced me to earlier in the evening, which I didn’t notice they were “friend” talking until I’d already gotten up there to interrupt them.

“Hey, I’m taking off.. was great to meet you.”

She insisted that I join her at her next spot. I thought she meant somewhere other than what she actually said. So I tossed the idea around for a moment, until I realized that she meant the biggest douchebag bar in town.  I told as politely as I could that I wouldn’t be caught dead there, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Drew’s face perk up.

She turned to him and invited him as well.  I actually think she was trying to talk him into it before I got over to them as well. He looked at me and also said he had a meeting in the morning and wouldn’t be joining her.  She left to go convince Gety to join her.

That left Drew and me alone. I was about to walk out as I’d planned, and he began asking me questions.  We talked a little bit, and then sheepishly he admitted so softly that I barely caught it.

“The way you look tonight is very hot.”

I of course told him that he was very handsome himself. (He is handsome)  He then said that he’d like to hang out with me some more that night and get to know me better in that very same soft barely there voice.

I told him that I was really did need to get home, but that I’d love to get together another time.

“Then its ok if I give you my card.”


I look at the card as if I’m studying it to deem whether or not he’s worthy enough.

“My cell isn’t on there though.”

I act like his business card is a piece of trash, and reply with a smile; “Then what in the world is this good for?”

“Well I suppose if you wanted to email me or something..”

He pauses. I look at him with a look that says “If you want to blow me off, you really didn’t need to put in this much effort.”

“I suppose I could get your number?” and he reaches in his pocket for his phone.

He types in my name and my number. He doesn’t call me to check it, so I don’t have his cell number.

He insists that we’ll have to get together soon. I agree, and say good night.  I see Gety on the way out and say Good night and thanks for the drinks. Then I leave.

I honestly can’t find his card now by the way.  So we’ll see if he calls.

Experience With Suburban Clubbing

I went out last night fearing the worst. I really wanted to celebrate with Chrissy that her divorce was final, but I did not want to have to deal with Jessie. It honestly takes a lot for me to loathe someone, and I loathe Jessie. So I was not really looking forward to what should be an awesome girlfest.


I was wearing my grey leopard print blouse which is see through in certain lighting, med-dark jeans, and my black dancing shoes. I normally avoid wearing this blouse because I’m not that comfortable with invisible shirts, but decided to be a bit of a slut as a celebration of being divorced and free. Plus, I was pretty certain I wouldn’t run into anyone important at the club since it was in suburbia. (By the way, the lighting in the club was not the right kind of lighting to make the shirt invisible. So I looked a little more “proper” than I intended.)


I drove out to Pflugerville to a burb-club. It was my first time there, and it wasn’t too bad. The place is like 6 bars in one, with one room of girls dancing on the bar top, a karaoke room, a country dance room, a hip-hop room, and some other room which I never did figure out the theme.


Almost everyone there was roughly my age or older. Actually there were quite a few older country/cowboy type men. Unfortunately, I don’t have those kind of daddy issues.


The group with Chrissy was pretty large (about 15 people) and diverse. A few people I’d never met before, a new male import from Chicago, and a couple from San Antonio looking to move to Austin. The wife was always out dancing or something, and the husband decided that I was a good woman to get to know. While flattering, I’m not sure I’m really that open minded.


The Chicagoan though looked a little tasty. Physically he was ok. Not really my type, but I thought I’d get to know him just in case. He was a little shy, so I drew him out by talking about Chicago.  We shared stories about the differences between here and Chicago.


Then we got to talking about fashion. The guy is not gay, but really should be. We talked about the absence of fashion sense among most of Austin.  I of course defended Austin a bit as its a different culture than Chicago and a different climate so changes in fashion need to be made. But when I first arrived in Austin, I was a lot like him and saw no reason for people to dress the way they do.


He then went on to try to explain to me as if I’m stupid about Cavalli and other fashion designers.


“You know Cavalli?”


I of course look at him like he’s a moron and to just get to his point. Mostly because I’m insulted, and secondly because I couldn’t care less about most designer names.


He looks at me like I obviously don’t know what Cavalli is.


“Yes, I know Cavalli.. whats your point?”


“This shirt is Cavalli. Its the most expensive shirt I own. Most people here wouldn’t know that.”


I look at his shirt. Its a nice button up shirt. Sure. But does it look nice? Oh hell no. Sure on someone else it might. Under a suit, it might. In a business setting it might. But the striped shirt honestly looked like some kind of retarded country wear and did absolutely nothing for his complexion.  I told him so as nicely as I could.


He attempted not to be offended, and then went on.


“You know Diana Von Furstenberg?”


It was condescending and yet not a rhetorical question. He waited for me to answer.


“Yes I know who she is.”


“You know she perfected the wrap dress. It looks good on everyone.”


I had to laugh at this. If you’ve ever seen me in a wrap dress, you’d know that they don’t look good on everyone.  Sure it might look better than some options, but it does not look good on me.


“Not everyone. THIS” I motioned to my body. “Does not look good in a wrap dress, trust me.”


He tried to argue. He lost.


I then explained to him my take on “Fashion”.  Yes keeping up with the current trends is good, but its not all about having the latest and greatest name brands. The designer label on most things means absolutely squat to me (yes I know designer names and styles).  I choose my clothes by how they fit and look on me.  Sometimes that means a $5 t-shirt over a $50 one, or sometimes a $100 blouse over a $20 one.


I often get compliments on my outfits and choice of clothing and accessories.  I even did when I lived in Chicago.


One of the biggest fashion mistakes that anyone can make is to assume that because the label is “haute couture” it will look good on them. This is the mistake that Mr Chicago was making. For him, it was less about looking good and more about status.


It was this that put him in my Douche-bag Hall of Fame.  It didn’t help that later in the evening he “judged” a woman who was just recently separated who has 3 kids and was a housewife prior to the separation.. now unemployed. He said..


“You know someone will have to pay for that divorce, and you know it won’t be her. She’s just looking for someone to pay for it. Totally not interested in her, because she’ll find a way to make me pay for it.”


And then, about 20 minutes later he left with her anyway.  Obviously the woman has bad taste in men. I feel sorry for her.


Fortunately, Jessie was pure nice the entire night. Not fake nice. Not bitchy nice. But considerate nice.  I don’t know if Chrissy wore off on her, or if she was trying to get back on my good side.  I really didn’t care. For Chrissy’s sake I was nice back.


Chrissy’s best friend, Jen came over to me and asked where’d I’d been lately. I turn down every invite from Chrissy once I know that Jessie is coming. I just can’t handle Jessie’s drama. So I told Jen that.


“You know even if I don’t like someone, I can tolerate them usually. It really takes a lot for me to hate someone like this. So I’m sorry, but if Jessie is coming I most likely won’t.”


Jen asked exactly what Jessie did. I explained to her that Jessie was usually so boy crazy that any guy I talked to she’d show up and try to dominate the conversation in any way that she could find. She even went so far as to belittle me or slip in something derogatory about me to make me look less attractive.


Jen smiled knowingly. She said that at first she thought Jessie was nice, but lately has started to see that side of Jessie.  She was getting tired of Jessie. She said that it wouldn’t be too long before Chrissy started noticing as well, and that they didn’t always do everything with Jessie. She said she’d make sure to invite me on those occasions.


I really hate being the bitch. I used to just go with everything. Let people do what they wanted, and grin and bear it.  But one thing I learned during my marriage is that I don’t have to be a doormat. I’ve actually had enough of that.  It was something I was taught as a child as a way to be attractive, but in the last few years have decided that it’s not… and it’s definitely not me.


So while I can smile and nod with the best of them.. I don’t have to and I won’t be unless its because of something I want.


The rest of the night went well. I got hit on by several more men. Each unsuitable for various reasons, but it was nice and flattering.. and fun.


And I have almost perfected my club dancing. Ask me to Salsa, Two-step, Waltz, Swing and I can put on a decent show of following if not impress you. Free style club dancing? Not so much. So I’ve decided my club dancing niche is comedic dancing, and I had Chrissy rolling. She couldn’t even do her dancing because she was laughing so hard. Yeah baby.. I’m hot like that!


Woke up Sunday morning with a massive headache, coughing, and the stench of cigarette smoke. One thing I love about Austin bars is that they’re smoke-free. Pflugerville wasn’t. Sure it was smoke-lite, and I don’t recall having trouble breathing due to smoke but I remember smelling some. (I have a heightened sensitivity to smoke.) It just reminded me of why I go downtown and another reason to dislike suburban bars in Austin.