Remember the zip-up bra I got in September of last year? I still love it. Well, I love them. I have it in every color but pink.
It has been reliable and perfect until I trimmed a hedge last weekend. There was a lot of stooping and swiveling. I already knew the zipper doesn’t do well with tossing and turning: the few times I’ve slept in it I’ll wake up and the zipper clasp is lowered to a 1970’s Bob Mackie level of cleavage.
However, last weekend I twisted enough trimming the hedge that when I made one last swivel to get into the fridge for a drink, the bra sprang entirely open. It felt like my breasts leapt with joy into the cool refrigerator air, poor things.
I still love the zip-up bra even with this forgivable lapse.