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meet the predator
call me jenie
born on 02/20/83 after my Dad & Mom drank beer and ate balut 9 months before
lives in Singapore, but always a Pinoy at heart
works as an advertising copywriter, but hates proofreading her blog entries
loves true friends, fake DVD's, alternative music, alcohol, sarcasm, boxing, hatha yoga, and House (the TV series,not the music genre)
loathes indifference, power trippers, narcissists, giant egos and bad breath
tries to live by the quote "Postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing." by Anais Nin
blusang puti
Once upon a time, I bought a white blouse. I finally unearthed it in my closet and brought here in Singapore. For some reason, I rarely wore it; maybe just twice in its 6 years of existence. And today, I remember why.
I buttoned my white blouse this morning, just elated that it still fits. Well, I admit that in the chest area, it doesn't. Half of the day passed by and I tried wearing the feminine top with grace. I took the bus and the MRT this morning and even shrugged off the tiny discomfort I was feeling. Was it my pants? No. My sandals? Not even. My bra? Maybe. But yes, it was my white blouse.
All these years, I still fail to squeeze into my in-denial brain that I'm not meant to wear these button-down blouses. It's either they fit my waist and my upper body properly but not my bust, or too loose for my waist yet just right for my chest. It always happens and I just can't accept it. The buttons in the center seem like they're dying to pop out.
So today, as I wear this tight white blouse with my breathing a bit restricted and the space between the buttons wide open for voyeurs (even if I tried putting double sided tape), I shall tell myself finally: I will never buy these tops ever again. It's just not meant for my body type. Period.
Finally, I decided to put matters into my own hands and get a quick fix after suffocating the whole day. No, I didn't take my blouse off nor unbuttoned it in front of my two male colleagues. Minutes before writing this entry, I wore a jacket, discreetly reached for my back, unhooked my bra with three fingers, and voila! I can breathe normally again. At long last.
But wait. Maybe it wasn't entirely my white blouse's fault after all. Darn. I think it's time to go shopping.
3:30 PM
Wednesday, March 21, 2007