I recently wrote about the "chicken cutlets bra" that I once wore - and lost - in another post (www.bubblews.com/news/800807) so I may as well tell the story.
I was invited to a very swanky gathering when I was working as an editor of a magazine in the late 90's. I am not a very swanky person. In fact, I prefer to be casual to dressing up any day. But I had to look good because I was going to be meeting people in high places and the impression I made was very important to me and the magazine in general.
I chose a subtly sexy dress with a high neckline but an open back. I didn't really think at the time I bought the dress that I couldn't wear a traditional bra with it since it was essentially backless. Going braless to an event like this would have been a major gaffe so I gathered my girlfriends and asked what to do about my predicament. The answer? Get a strapless silicone bra. These backless, strapless silicone bras supposedly stick on and support, lift and conceal while having no straps at all to interfere with oddly cut tops and dresses.
I was leery of a "stick on bra" but one of my very good, socially savvy friends said she swore by hers and loved it. Convinced, I bought one. It was squishy and I could wear it hooked or wear each ... cutlet ... separately. All I had to do was to wet the bra slightly and it became tacky (as in sticky but probably as in ... tacky as well). I then only had to adhere it to my bust and I was done. I tried the bra with a tight top and it seemed to work fine. It looked natural with no lines anywhere and it didn't slip around. That night of the gathering, I dampened the silicone bra and put each cutlet on separately. My thinking was that each one would weigh less if not connected and that would lessen any chance that the whole thing would unstick. I slipped on my dress and heels, did my makeup and hair then anxiously went to the gathering. The night went well. I met a lot of new people and connected with others whom I didn't know well. I felt I did a pretty good job of concealing the fact that I was completely out of my element and on the verge of a panic attack just being there.
Toward the end of the night, I was standing and talking to a group of men I had met earlier that night. My husband had gone to get a drink, leaving me to fend for my socially awkward self. We were chatting when suddenly, I felt something hit my foot. Something squishy and soft like ... well ... like an uncooked chicken cutlet. I looked down, as did a few of the people I was talking to, and there it was. Boob one had unstuck and slipped down my dress and out. My chicken cutlet sat on the ground at my feet. I now knew the true meaning of mortification. I wanted to just pretend nothing happened but I could feel the other side starting to slip and slide down. I grasped my chest (like I was having a heart attack) to stop another cutlet drop and did the only thing I could do. I picked up the bra cup and said, "Chicken, anyone?" A few VERY LONG seconds went by before everyone started to laugh (AT ME).
I excused myself and just took the stupid thing off in the bathroom. I couldn't get it to stick again, even dampened and I was so embarrassed as it was that really, nothing more could embarrass me further. I stuck the silicone bra cups into my purse, took a very deep breath, and walked back to the group. My husband had joined them and was somewhat clued in by someone apparently. I could see him looking at me like he wanted to run out the door.At that point, there was just nothing I could do to salvage the situation so I explained what happened. I explained my dress was backless and I was wearing a strapless bra that lost its stick. To men who I just met. Who held my career in their hands. Luckily, they were pretty tipsy by then and thought the whole thing was hilarious. I SO didn't. We got out of there eventually and I tossed that terrible bra thing out immediately. I don't know why I even bothered to stuff the cups into my purse at all.
The incident was a bit of a running joke for a while but not in a terrible way. I owned it. I had no choice but to and I guess that impressed the guys I was dealing with. I was able to laugh at myself rather than run away in horror (which I absolutely wanted to do). I am sure somewhere out there, there is an older executive or retired executive who recalls the incident and still tells his friends about it. I just hope he doesn't read this and reply here. ACK.