I'm 68. My Body Changed After Menopause and Not One Bra in My Drawer Fit Me Anymore. This Is What I Finally Did.

A long one, so pour a coffee. I'm writing it because I know some of you are where I was.

I want to tell you about something a bit personal, because I think a lot of women our age are going through it and nobody talks about it.

Somewhere around 63, my body changed. I didn't put on much weight. It just moved. I got smaller round the ribs and fuller in the cup, and everything started sitting lower than it used to. My daughter says that's normal after menopause. Nobody warned me.

What it meant, day to day, was that my bras stopped fitting. All of them.

Nine bras, $400, and not one I could wear

Last spring I laid every bra I own out on the bed. Nine of them. Some still had the tags on, because I'd tried them at home and known straight away. I added up the receipts I could find. A little over $400.

Every one had its own problem. The band rode up my back by lunchtime and the cups tipped forward. The underwire dug into the soft part under my arm. The straps slid off my shoulders, which slope more than they used to, so I spent the day fishing them back up under my blouse. The lace ones itched. And the one that fitted well enough, I couldn't fasten behind my back without my shoulder hurting.

The fitting room

So I did what you're supposed to do. I went to the department store and asked to be measured. A lovely young girl, maybe 22, with a tape measure round her neck. She told me I was a completely different size from the one I'd worn for twenty years, and brought me seven bras to try.

I sat on that little bench under the fluorescent light with my blouse off and tried them one after another. Every single one did the same things. I bought two to be polite.

I cried in the car afterwards. That's the honest truth. Bras are made for a 35-year-old's body, and I don't have one anymore.

What Joyce was wearing

At Thanksgiving, my sister-in-law Joyce, who's 70, looked wonderful. Smooth, lifted, comfortable. No straps showing, no lines under her top. I asked her what bra she had on and she laughed and said, "I'm not wearing one."

She was wearing a tank top with the bra built into it.

I told her those don't work. I'd tried the shelf-bra camisoles from the department store, and they're a strip of elastic and a thin pad that folds up in the wash. They hold nothing.

So Joyce marched me into the kitchen and pulled her neckline down an inch to show me. The cups are sewn in. Real shaped cups, stitched into the lining all the way round. Not pads in a pocket.

That's what makes it work. The cups hold you, and the whole fitted top carries the weight from your shoulders down to your hips, so it doesn't need a tight band round your ribs at all.

Why it fit when nothing else did

• There's no band to ride up. Nothing rides up, so nothing tips the cups forward.
• The straps stay on my shoulders. They're two inches wide and flat, so they sit on a sloping shoulder and don't slide.
• You pick a size like a normal top. A plain chart, S to 3XL. No cup letters, no band numbers, no tape measure.
• It goes on over my head. No hooks behind my back, and nothing to unhook at night.
• It looks like a nice top. I wear it with a cardigan and nobody knows.

Three months later

I've worn one every day since. I went to lunch with the girls from church in the black one under my cardigan, and Helen asked me the exact question I'd asked Joyce.

And the money. I'd spent over $400 on bras I don't wear. Five of these cost me £89.99, less than half what that pile on my bed did, and I wear every one of them.

If your body has changed like mine and your bras have stopped making sense, please don't do what I did and spend another year and another $400 finding out. The company is still doing Buy 3 Get 2 Free. That's how I got my five. Here's where I ordered.

With love,

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