Bra vo!

Frederick's of Hollywood is going bust. Apparently the 53-year-old company known for its risqué and I'd say, sometimes tawdy undergarments is having a midlife crisis. So they're undergoing a bit of a restructuring. Who isn't by that age? Frankly, I'm undergoing a bit of restructuring myself. The earth's gravitational force seems to be having an excessive pull on certain anatomical pairs. My earlobes, nostrils and regrettably my mammary glands have joined Frederick's and fallen on some hard times. And now we're all looking for something to lift us up.
It was my Grandmother who first introduced me to the brassiere. It was in the swirl of the bra burning 60's and my excessively proper Grandma Belle wasn't taking any chances after she found out my Mom voted McGovern. No granddaughter of hers was going to leave the house without the proper foundations - in politics and more importantly in underwear. Coincidentally, Grandma Belle was born 1917; the same year corset metal was banned, freeing up 28 tons of metal for the war effort. Judging by her purchase for me, I do believe she may have worked for the enemy. Grandma Belle bound me into some sort of medieval industrial strength torture device with 5 rows of hooks and eyes and four rows of revolting pink lace in the front and I think steel strapping to hold the whole contraption up. All this despite the fact that nothing was budding yet on my 8-year-old body. She proudly announced I was now harnessed into my first "training bra." In training for what? Breathing without expanding my lungs? Dressing like Madonna? Olympic brassiere snapping? "You'll know when you get older!" and she let out an enormous cackle.

Another bra mystery - the whole cup size thing. What kind of geometric progression do they use? It's the only time in life that a D is definitely better than an A. And what's up with this size thing? What's a cup measure anyway? I did an experiment. If you pour a full 8-ounce cup of water into a 34A, the cup runneth over. If you fill up a 34B with 8 ounces, you can toss in a few ice cubes and there's still room. Since some Russian immigrant named Ida came up with the whole cup size thing in the 20s it must have been some communist conspiracy.

No word on the size of the first American brassiere patented by Mary Philips Jacob in 1914. She was sick of her whalebone corset sticking out from her flapper dress. Not wanting to be flapping in the wind she strapped together two handkerchiefs with a little pink ribbon and shazam! A $4.6 billion a year business was born.

For a while Frederick's was the Double D of intimate apparel and a real innovator. Frederick Mellinger stared the company in 1946 selling lacey black bras to his Army buddies (presumably for their wives). Frederick had lots of firsts: first push-up bra, first thong panty (which of course lead to the first impeachment of the 20th century) and first the underwear website. But, all those firsts haven't added up to being number one. That title goes to Victoria's Secret, which has been beating the panties off of Frederick's. Which leads to the inevitable question - what is Victoria's Secret? If only Frederick knew. Here's my guess. Men like Frederick's. The problem with Frederick is he never wore any of those lacey, racy, sexy undergarments. My ex-husband bought me a hot little bra and panty (which I gladly gave him custody of). I just felt silly and uncomfortable. Vicki's secret is she doesn't make me feel silly or uncomfortable. And despite a major glitch in Vicki's first website fashion show when she was under wired and crashed, perusing Vicki's website doesn't intimidate me. I can see myself in one of her simple yet sensual bras. No silly lace or faux leopard skin. And if I use a really slow modem, on my really old Wang computer and if I take off my glasses and squint I could almost look like one of the Vicki models. If it was really dark.

Grandma Belle warned me that wearing a bra wouldn't kill me. Although there is one, sort of, documented case of a 23-year-old rather large gal, Berbel Zumner who was killed by lightening while wearing a bra with metal. But, as time has taken its toll, I have taken to hooking into the web to find the support I desperately need now. Finding the right undergarment is almost as confusing as shopping for the perfect laptop. A quick search sent me to Frederick's and Vicki's and Maidenform and Playtex and Bali (the bra company not the island, I wish) and some XXX rated site that involved fur and whips and glitter glue. And the choices! There's strapless and plunging, sports bras, hooks, Velcro, zippers, clipped in the front, hooked in the back, lace and cotton and nylon and fur and underwire and overpriced. And just in case you need it, one site has instructions on how to put on a bra. Hey, this isn't brain surgery. Although some guys I know could use a little remedial instruction.

I had to decide among the dramatic cleavage category, miracle bras, minimizers, maximizers, and tenderizers (okay I made that one up). But you can get one filled with rosemary and water padding (also good for basting). There's cotton padding and gel padding and one with just plain water padding (not sold in Siberia). Then there's my favorite still under construction. The structural engineers at one company came up with a bra with three different settings - you can literally pump yourself up like a balloon depending on your mood. Meeting with a client for breakfast? Defcon A. Having a lunch date with a newly divorced high school boyfriend? Click twice for Defcon B. A dinner date with cute guy from IT? Defcon D! The full helium inflate. I wonder what happens if the thing explodes? A second date?

Now if Frederick's really wants to update how about a multi-tasking underwire sports bra model? Tune into your favorite radio station while running and lifting and separating. Or how about a Strategic Defense System, like the one the Pentagon wants? I'd call it the Star Wars bra. At the first hint of danger my version would deploy its pepper gas pellets, rendering the attacker helpless. Just gotta figure out how to make it washable.

Finding just the right bra was time consuming and I wasn't getting any younger. So, as I often do when I can't find what I want, I logged onto eBay. And there it was: "Vintage Brassiere Collection." I was almost inexplicably drawn to a bundle of pink bras with endless rows of hooks in the back and lace in the front, and straps that could hold up a sleeping elephant. I placed my bid and won, and let out a huge cackle. It was Grandma's cackle from 32 years ago. I guess I was no longer in training.

by Stephanie Becker, Mass Distractions columnist for BestStuff.com