Oh, Otto.

A few weeks ago I was browsing the lingerie section of my local Tar-jay, looking for something to go under a sparkly black top I had purchased to wear to a wedding. It was the week after Valentine’s Day, so there were plenty of gorgeous lace demi-bras to be had for those whose cups do not runneth over.

There were delicate, sheer, containment units for fried eggs (barely A), apples (barely B), and oranges (barely C). For the ladies with grapefruits, there was a smattering of heavy-duty white cotton numbers more suited to a German grandmother than to a 25-year-old nursing mom trying to look nice for a special event.

“Achtung! Zees undervear vill lift and support, ya, and scare away zee men!”

Seriously, these bras practically started at the neck and covered most of the ribcage and the straps were at least four inches wide. The matching panties to these things came in sizes L, XL, and 1 X. You could sail a pirate ship with a pair or two.

But for me, there was nothing.

I am well past the grapefruit stage. My ladies are more like big momma Holsteins. While pregnant with Tommy I discovered the cup on my bra is large enough for me to wear like a hat. On my Very. Large. Head.

Oh, Otto Titsling, purported inventor of the “over the shoulder boulder holder,” why did you stop your attractive designs when they will only support pebbles, gravel, maybe a river rock or two? Are us boulder ladies resigned to only using special orthopedic-style supports and trusses? Should I just have a flying buttress installed and call it quits?

So here’s my little secret: Apart from one of the very first bras I owned, (at age 13, a lovely pink lacy number) I have never owned a pretty piece of everyday lingerie. I have never, ever, owned a bra with matching panties.

I have tried stores for larger ladies, but the problem is, the rest of me isn’t that large. I am an average weight for my height. I am not large, except, well, you know. So stores for the “plus-sized” do me no good at all.

We won’t even talk about Victoria and her secret. Her secret is that women with actual breasts can’t shop at her store. Oh, how I hate Victoria and her stick-thin models. Have you seen the new Ipex commercials? The “wireless” wonder bra is supposed to be ultra-supportive, but the commercial makes it very clear that the model doesn’t actually have anything to support! So how would she know?

I have a vile hatred of the lingerie industry. I am jealous of all those fried egg ladies out there, who buy bras that pad and lift and push and inflate, supposedly to look more like me, while I’m out here with my girls hanging low, wondering how much sailcloth it will take to hoist them aloft. And all I want is a little lace to dress it up.