Let’s Discuss Underwear


Specifically…the ultimate in torture-wear for all the ladies – the vile and demonic brassiere!

Sorry fellas, but unless you cross-dress (no judgements, here!) this is not a post for you.  And if you DO cross-dress – do you have any pointers??

Anyone else out there count their favorite time of day the glorious moment in time when you are home for the night – shedding outdoor and/or work clothing to slide into comfy pajamas – reveling in the freedom that comes from taking the bra OFF?

Yea…I live for that moment…

In ShapeAs my body shape will never be described as svelte, thin, shapely, or firm, bras have always been a constant source of aggravation.  The band is either too tight, too small, too loose, too big, too stretchy, not stretchy enough or difficult to fasten.

The cups are a blend of itchy, scratchy, padded too much, padded not enough (sometimes both at the same time!), or they gap and pucker in all the wrong places.  They either offer support in unexpected places (hey…a girl’s got to breathe…ok???) or no support at all.  The straps are too wide, and cut into my neck, or too narrow, to slide down my shoulders.

To solve these horrific dilemma, manufactures of gadgetry all across the globe have offered up a cornucopia of straps, buckles, pads, inserts and other assorted doodads to solve the average large-breasted lady’s ‘unmentionables’ issues.

Bra collageWhy not come up with a better bra???

Yea, I know the answer to that one (as most of you already do), but I’m gonna spell it out anyway just because I’m in that kind of mood:  Mass Production of consumer goods equals the “One Size Fits All” mindset – and the minority of those who do NOT fit don’t matter…so we’ll flood the market with ‘one size fits most’ (to avoid pesky litigation in the false advertising arena), and sell more useless crap to those who don’t conform.  Win/Win for those selling stuff – frustration for those of us who can’t find a damm bra that actually FITS.

My…I’m prickly today…

I broke the ONLY bra I currently own which I don’t loathe about a week ago…leaving me to be jammed into one rescued from the dark recesses of my closet floor because the straps are afraid of heights.  Ironically – this meme showed up on Facebook the same day the under-wire snapped.

Bra meme

Tell me Karma doesn’t have a twisted sense of humor… >:D

Soooo… I find I’m being forced to forge into intimates shops to find a replacement…and at this time of year, with the militant shoppers at every parking lot and department store in every city on top of the whole “I HATE clothing shopping” thing I have going for me – I haven’t plucked up the determination to do so yet.

It’s far easier to just grouse about ill-fitting underthings.

The traditional bra shopping routine follows the same, bitter path every time I venture out  –  upon entering the store, I’m accosted by all the trendy offerings (blossoms of pattern, lace, and color), not a one of which is sold in my size, and I dejectedly tramp toward the ‘women’s’ section.  A wall of bland, monochrome colors greet me – whites, blacks, greys, beiges.  No patterning, no frills, no color:  just an ugly selection of rounded-off triangular ends, heavy seams, thick straps, entirely utilitarian over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders are offered.

The only bright colors in evidence are on the hangars and tags.

In this arena, size is the only consideration (there, guys…feel better?), because there’s nothing available that shows an ounce of ‘style’ or originality.

I’ll take several of the least offensive into the changing room, decide in the minute I have each on that it’s not a very good fit, and disgustedly settle for the least of the assorted evils once I get frustrated and give up on the excursion as an exercise in futility.

first world problems, yes?

I’ve lost count of the number of bras I’ve owned through the years using this method of selection – most of which get slingshot into a dark corner of my closet to become chew-toys for the cats.

(I’m sure there’s a boob joke in there somewhere…but I’m too irritated to find it…)

The DIL(2B) and I had a few bra discussions when she moved in with me – she’s fairly well obsessed with this slingshot/torture device that society makes women wear to contain the curves – so after the holidays, when the furor of shopping because ‘everyone’s doing it’ dies down, we’ll have a girls shopping day, and try once again to get me a bra that actually fits.

We might just have to stop for some ‘liquid encouragement’ first…

What in the Ach, Eee, Double-Hockey-Sticks is THAT?

Alpha Pattern comic

Go ahead – stare.  I won’t mind.  In fact, I appreciate that this little piece of artwork demands a good, hard, long look.

Innuendo intentional… 😛

This is a bizarre piece fresh off the ‘shop edit board.  I’m rather happy with the way this one turned out, as there’s a lot of smaller, random images contained within the bigger, more structured pattern.  Feel free to start picking your own, smaller images out of the carefully controlled chaos.  Go back to being a kid, seeing dinosaurs or dragons or puppies in those big, puffy clouds in the sky…but this time, with more colors.

It started as a rather simple pattern that I had buzzing around in my head…Alpha Single

Yup…I will most certainly admit to finding this pattern in a season of Dexter, which we are streaming through Netflix, as the kids haven’t seen it before.  In the show, it’s put on a much more gruesome canvas than my electrons crossing the ‘net.  Mine?  Less menace, and much prettier!

Improving the quality of our television is just one more service I offer 😀


Alpha Pattern color

Soooo…I took this simple A-within-a-3/4-circle, and stuck three of them together at the top.  These new clusters then got aligned in an interlocking grid.  Toss some colors in there for visual interest, and voila! – the finished, colorized pattern before I distorted it.

If you have ‘shop, go play with the distortion filters.  They are all kinds of awesome.


In my files, the final image is called ‘Alpha Pattern Comic,’ as I can see  – slightly right of center (not intentionally – if it were intentional, it would have been left) – a blot of different colors that reminds me of Iron Man.  I can see twisted fish-like creatures in it, a couple of floral forms, and the head of a St. Bernard dog, too.  If you’re in the mood to, share with me in the comments what you can pick out of the pattern…

I started tessellation art a couple of months ago after reading someone’s blog post about Zentangles (see Oh, what a Tangled Web we Weave on the T&T Google) on a lark…which lead to some research on fractals, steadily moving to some interesting (and frustrating) work in ‘shop, viewing wallpaper patterns and study of the recurring patterns in fabrics.  I finally landed here, with this distorted tessellation.

Arriving at Destination:  Happy Place…thank you for veering Left of Reality.

Art is putting your own stamp on the world around you.

The Curse of the Blank Page

Hey…look at this.  This page is blank.  It is white, and black, but not read all over…because there’s nothing on it.

page left blankNow wait just a hair-picking minute.  Who put words on this blank page????

Does anyone else see the humor in things like these…or is it just me?

So, this week’s photo prompt for the Daily Post is Twinkle…and, as they are having trouble with pingbacks, the link may or may not work – but I’ll make the attempt nonetheless.

christmas bulb

I have lots of twinkly shots, because seeing what light can actually DO when collected by the camera’s lens is one of the reasons I started developing my photographic eye.  This one, I snagged at a Christmas party last year.  Granted, I really should have been paying attention to the hosts, the other guests, or the meaningless small talk … but we’ll go over my strange actions in strained social settings another time.




Sparkles on the globe


This gem is part of a series taken when I realized that the candle I was burning on the bookcase did wonderful things to both the glass paperweight and the glass dragon sharing the space.  Makes visions of the Death Star dance in my head.  The sparkly ball of color in the foreground is a bowling ball with glass chips glued all over it – it’s supposed to be an outdoor gazing ball – but it’s too pretty for outside.



These next two were captured on an excursion to Madison’s State Street last fall – my Son and DIL(2B) insisted on dragging me along to their favorite stomping ground.  In fact, these 2 shots featured in another blog post of mine… Death by Bouncy Ball   over on Google.



IMG_0137Which brings me to the last photo I’m going to show you today – there were all kinds of twinkly lights inside this dome.  Every winter, the Mitchell Park Domes in Milwaukee has an event they call Music Under Glass. 

If you’ve never been to the Domes, and aspire to visit my fair State – pencil in a stop.  The three domes house some very lovingly tended, carefully maintained biospheres – one tropical, one arid, and their floral show-dome (which changes a few times a year).

And if the dry write-up isn’t enough to sway you to go take a stroll in a desert or the tropics in the middle of the biggest city in Wisconsin…just remember…I am a houseplant killer (when I can be bothered to buy one) and I like the domes 😀


Scorched Earth




One thing I can say about cameras – I’m rarely without one.  Another thing I can say about cameras…I’m always pointing them at the strangest things.  This little shot tonight started its digital life as the remains of a cheese soup boil-over burned to a crisp onto the stove-top.

Yup…you heard that right – I took a picture of a common household complaint – the burned on mess of a pot of food that escaped the cooking vessel only to sizzle to its doom on the hot surface below.

Stove cleaned after the photo shoot was done…priorities, dontchaknow…

Photoshop is a wonderful tool – it turned me into a right-handed artist…which is saying something, seeing though I’m rather unapologetically left handed in most everything else.  Put a plain, ordinary pencil in my right hand, and I’m about as gifted as bozo, the wonder bra…but a mouse?  Hello, imagery!

I learned to use a mouse (the computer kind, not the squeaky kind) with my right hand.


Because that’s where the right-handers in my family put the darn thing.  It never occurred to me to move it to the dominant hand.  By the time I got all growed up and started working with computers for a living, instead of out on a shop floor moving product from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’, using the mouse with my right hand was well-ingrained, and a bit of a bonus – I could take notes with my left hand while manipulating the mouse with my right.  So…when I started working in ‘shop – the right hand FINALLY got to be the artistic one.

I think it’s happy that way, and the left hasn’t gotten jealous, so I’m good with it.