Last week I went with four friends to a ‘bra’ party. Don’t worry, nothing salacious. It was in aid of the Playtex Moonlight walk for Breast Cancer. As it happened of the roughly 200 people there, only eight of the men actually turned up wearing a bra and four of them were my friends and I.
Now my nice black number was bought, fresh that day, from discount retailers Peacocks. To be honest I don’t know many 40C-cup women, so decided that was the easiest way to go – it cost me £3.50 for a swanky black number, which was then manfully (or should that be womanfully) stuffed with some party balloons.
The idea was to attempt, if possible, not to be too effeminate and to wear my normal clothes, just with a bra! Two of my other friends had used the maternal route to source their bras. However the fourth member of the group, who shall remain nameless, decided to go the charity shop route.
His was a little lacy pink number, stretched widely and unstuffed! It was bought from a local charity shop that day for £1 – undercutting me. Yet as a bloke, it’d remained unwashed. Now apart from the obligatory jibes of ‘wearing a sadly deceased grandmother’s bra’ the worst moment came with a text message I received three days later.
“You know that bra I wore? I’ve bloody well got a fungal infection in my nipple because of it”. Now you see, even I have to admit cheapest isn’t always best!
