Tonight is the launch of Support For Mums; an organisation I am not only in awe of and right behind, but that I am also Chairperson of the Board for.
You know, with all the spare time I have 🙂
But I love the idea so much, and know just how much of a need there is for this sort of organisation, that I can’t help but be a part of it. It’s just who I am.
In my typical fashion, I have nothing to wear. Partly due to bugger all time to get something, but I also don’t really want to be purchasing another fabulous frock to sit in my wardrobe until my boobs are too big for it. Thus, I put a call out to a number of friends and relatives to see if they may be of assistance.
I also have a clothing company sending me an outfit. Of course, it had not yet arrive as of this morning, so I was forced to resort to friends and relatives.
I am blessed with what some refer to as a “petit” frame, but that I consider “short”. I am also considerably ample in the boob department. I know no one of similar stature, which makes the dress borrowing somewhat torturous.
Ditto the shopping for a frock. Whilst I am forced to ‘go up a size’ so that my boobage may be encased in the actual frock, I find that, regardless of the size, they all seem to cater for cup sizes on the smallish end of the scale. It is horrible and mildly depressing and there tends to be much swearing and crying.
I took a frock my C-cupped and tall sister-in-law brought over for my perusal. I tried it on on Sunday, and it looked somewhat akin to shite. I tried it again after a shower this morning, with the appropriate underwear. It