the breastplate of boadicea
September 21 
In keeping with my underwear motif of late, dear readers, I would like to surprise you with a curious confession.
Today I have done something I've never done before.
I have bought me a sports bra.
Now please don't laugh.
I know for some of you this may be something of a bland and redundant admission.
You may even be sniggering at this stage, mocking me in my sad confession, rolling on the floor weeping at my miserable entry.
But for me it is a stupendous moment.
All my life I have titillated my girls with the fluff and frippery of a fancy brassiere.
With delicious indulgence, I have defined myself with the stuff dreams are made of, tantalising my delightful breasts with a variety of lingerie fantasies in black lace, red satin, pink frills and broderie anglaise.
Indeed, I have succumbed to every titillation, every taunting probe made by Agent Provocateur and Victoria's Secret, been found stalking and haunting the David Jones underwear department like a lovelorn teenager, awaiting new releases from Elle McPherson and Love Kylie.
Oh yes. I'll admit it, I'm a Lingerie Whore.
Now if you are indeed an afficionado of this oft dysfunctional diary of decadence, you will know that I am already the proud owner of 97 pairs of panties, some 47 brassieres, three corsets and more than a tangle of stockings.
I am decadent. I am frivolous. I am given to frippery.
There is little that is utilitarian in my wardrobe.
Until today.
And the sports bra.
Oh, she is a sturdy thing.
She is firm and she is fortified.
In fact, so surprised was I at the unusual encasement of my demeanour, that I fell upon the mirror with serious laughter at this freshly holstered and hoisted vision of myself in the change room.
Indeed, and after some time, I saw myself as a new woman, sheathed in what appeared to be no less than the trappings of a Goddess Warrior breastplate.
Indeed, dear reader, I had become Bodicea.
I can't imagine anyone feeling as hearty as I do now, as I proudly don my breastplate.
But perhaps you are all sporty, used to it somehow, comfortable in the holstering and hoisting.
Perhaps you play netball, or run, or indeed, have jiggling breasts.
I have experienced none of the above, with the exception of a little netball playing in Borneo, where I was duly relieved of my feeble instigations after one quarter.
Sadly, my running has been as miserable.
And alas, I am not with ample bosom and have never suffered from bruised eyes.
I do walk, however.
I walk a lot.
And while there is no running, I do walk briskly in warrior style.
Next May, in fact, I walk the Camino.
There will be the walking of 800km; 27 km a day for 34 days and frankly, I can't prepare myself enough.
It is an obsession.
I have already packed my pack.
I have purchased four books on the subject.
I have even Prepared Lists.
This, like the sports bra, is not like me.
Or is it?
"Claire, I thought you were spontaneous!" cried Melinda, when I shared with her my fanatical turn.
"Indeed I am," I mused, "Which is why we're going..."
But as you know, my obsessiveness, my infatuations, dear reader, know no bounds.
I am easily excited. I am a terrier straining at the leash.
Indeed, if there is a chance for me to exercise control over the direction of something I am enlivened by, then I am as impassioned and unrelenting as Boadicea herself.
And so it is likely that I will wear my sports bra to bed tonight and indeed everyday until, eight months from now, I eventually sport it on the journey I have bought it for.
Goodness knows I don't really need it; like the multitude of super lightweight gadgets I have already purchased for my pack, the topographical maps I have printed out and filed, along with my book of Spanish phrases and the intimate descriptions of each and every albergue along the way...
Perhaps, however, I have not fully recognized this new power...
For, in the sporting of my handsome harness, I am suddenly and indescribably imbued with the bold and brazen fortitude of The Warrior Goddess.
Indeed, as I sit here scribing and doing, a brazen beam of incandescent power and potency in this gleaming white holster, there occurs the miraculous conclusion that minions are doing my bidding.
Inexplicably, dinner is being cooked as I watch, errant dishes are washed and quiet servitude is in order as I sit here, bold as brass in my Boadicean bodaciousness.
Oh, it is the sports bra, I know.
And I have a new power.
I am The Hand of The Goddess.
Or the Breasts...
Indeed, I believe I may well be The Breastplate of Boadicea Herself!
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Reader Comments (41)
I wore a sports bra after I gave birth so my girls would stay slightly compressed. I ended up looking like I had two backs :(
NO MORE SPORTS BRA!!!
My wife calls them "uni-boobs"
It's undergarment central around this place! I am trying to combine the concept of the magical panties with the bodacious sports bra. Hmmm...
You are bodacious in every way! 'Tis true, 'tis true!
I can't stand the feelign of the sports bra, I like the feel of a little lift and separate. Now that I actually have breasts, I'm enjoying showing them off.
Hey, look, cleavage!
It detracts attention away from my booty.
That being said, the fringe benefits of your new bra sound intriguing...
xoxo
Mistress M
New Bra and Panties. Sounds like and Ian Drury Albumn.
Actually I was going to say "Nice underwear Minx can I talk you our of it?" but I thought better of it. Can I though?
xx
It's amazing to attend the Cinema on a Friday evening and see how many young women have chosen that as acceptable evening wear.
I'm sure you'll add newfound classiness to the Chestwarmer motif.
SA
You sound positively DANGEROUS!
A am unfortunately well-endowed and have been most familiar with sturdy undergarments for some time now. I often gaze longingly at delicate nothings in lingerie departments and wish they would control the errant girls. There is something wonderful and more than a touch sexy about a strong satin bra and french knickers though. I'm sure Dita would agree.
Bodiceaus (for this should be the new spelling) you! Go forth and conquer!
I would happily do battle with a warrior minx. How I dream of grappling with you in the dark, weapons drawn, sweat dripping off our brows as we...
Ahem.
Excuse me. All this underwear talk is getting me rather hot under the collar!
and they look great with yoga pants too!!!!!!
Dear Minx, there is nothing better then a sports bra!!! When I was going to the gym everyday that is all I would wear! :)
Ok wait! that didn't come out right lol! I wore other things of course, but as far as the bra it was sporty all the way heheheh :)
You will need your lycra breastplate to protect you when you're beating your breast, wondering 'Why did I think I could do this?' during the darkest days and moments of your marathon 800km trek
OMG ... I can't believe my squeeze still lets me come to this site.
Umm
... uh ...
My what a kickass font you use!
:)
Congrats. I'd be a gonner if I hadn't purchased a couple years ago. No, not quite black eye causing girls, but enough to struggle with the lacy frippery you describe. I've always thought that just wrapping everything up would be much better.
Hello dear readers,
I will preface my comments by quickly slipping in a little apology for my absence, explained by a weekend away with my husband.
A fabulous break it was too, spent in total decadence at the utterly fabulous Quay West Bunker Bay Resort in Eagle Bay...
It was also excruciatingly hard as we pushed our bodies to the limits of endurance, walking the Cape to Cape trails.
The sports bra was given a work out, of course, as were a pair of new hiking boots...which is where the excruciating part came in...
Alas, I fear there is bruising...
Not my eyes, of course, but my tender ankles...
I have never been so pleased to luxuriate in 5 star facilities in my life!
xox
Oh Christina,
I've been through the horror of two backs.
Following the cessation of breast feeding, my girls just upped and left. Disappeared... Oh!
It's quite devastating isn't it!!
xox
they came back...
Hello Jason,
I most definitely have duo boobs - lifted, separated, thrust forward in unnatural defiance.
They be fighting breasts in the sports bra!!!
xox
Indeed, dear Margot,
They have become brazen in their bodaciousness, these breasts of mine.
Curiously, I feel more pertinent in the sports bra than I do in my frillies!
Despite their wholesome utilitarianism, they are loud and brusque and a little bit pushy. They certainly bully my breasts about!!
And if they can bully the boys about here too then I'm all for the fringe benefits!!
Having said that, I much prefer the subtle manipulations of my minxy gear...
xox
Here's an invitation for you, Norman darling,
In the wilds of Borneo
And the vineyards of Bordeaux
Eskimo, Arapaho
Move their body to and fro.
Hit me with your rhythm stick.
Hit me! Hit me!
Das ist gut! C'est fantastique!
Hit me! hit me! hit me!
Hit me with your rhythm stick.
It's nice to be a lunatic.
Hit me! Hit me! Hit me!
I love a little sex and drugs and rock and roll, darling!!
xox
Dearest SA,
If it gets too hot, I may have to create a new camino dress code!!
Don't put it past me to add a little minx motif to this predominantly featureless garment...
xox
And indeed, Lord Likely, I am aglow from all this talk of grappling...
Your own weapon strikes fear into the breast of many maidens, I'm sure, Likely...
I can only imagine how I would deal with that...in the dark..
Goodness! I may have to run a bath..
before I run amok!!
xox