Lets just say I have an ample backside. It's not quite a shelf booty but let's say I identify with the term "bootylicious".
Most of the time I'm ok with it. It's my lot in life. Hell, I'd much rather have some then none. In fact, some days if you get me in the right jeans I'm rather likin' what I was given. But that's in heavy denim. Denim that holds and lifts and shapes.
Lightweight cotton culottes do not. But I wore them anyway last week as it was due to be a scorching day and anything else just seemed...well... hot.
That happened to be the day I needed to run Downtown to the Post Office and overnight a package. I knew it would be a zoo there and I knew I only had a half an hour so I jog-walked the seven or so blocks from my work.
And as I did. I felt. The jiggle.
I do not like to jiggle. It's probably one of the worst feelings in the world for me and probably accounts for the reason I don't like Jello. But I digress.
Ask my hubby. He knows I have jiggle issues. If he playful slaps my behind and it jiggles, well I stop feeling playful and the claws come out.
"DID YOU JUST MAKE ME JIGGLE ?" I'll screech in a voice he's come to know as the if- you-do-it-again-I'm-going-to-go-all-medieval-on-your-ass-voice.
"Uh, sorry" he'll say cowering in fear.
Yep,I'm like that. It's not pretty.
So I got to thinking as I unhappily jiggled down the hill. We have bras so that our boobies don't jiggle with reckless abandon as we lead our active lifestyles.
Why not a bra for those of us with badonk-a-donks ? I picture something very closely resembling a bra with two cups but rather then shoulder straps having a waist strap.
What? If someone is making raincoats for purses then dammit someone can make a bra for the behind.
Maybe that's my golden ticket
Now, a name. A name. What would I call this stroke of genius ?
Hmm...the jiggleliminator ? the brass ?
Well something will come to me...sooner or later. There has just got to be a public need for this kind of thing.