Okay, this thin piece of wire digging into the tender fleshy underneath my breasts can go to hell.
And guess who invented it. Howard Hughes because he needed to make Jane Russell hot in a sweater, even though Jane Russell was pretty damn hot anyway.
I have two white bras; one with an underwire, and one without. Put my boyfriend to the test. In his words, he looks at my breasts the most, and even he couldn’t figure out when I was wearing the underwire and when I wasn’t.
Best thing ever is finding the right bra without having to deal with the underwire.
I even broke my underwire once just from sitting in a VIA rail economy seat for 26 hours.
Yep, Montreal to Halifax broke my bra. And not even in a convenient place.
Midway up the right breast so that it was poking me for the last 11 hours of my trip.
Someone tell me the point of having a bra with an underwire, besides the joy of taking it off at the end of day.