Monthly Archives: June 2011

Much love for the pretty bras

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs by

As you may know, I am not always a fan of mastectomy fashion. When I think mastectomy bras, I think of words like: practical, suitable, supportive. But, what I’d rather be thinking is: sexy, beautiful, fun. So, today, I’m going to share with you three people’s online projects – all created with the wonderful intention to support breast cancer survivors (and have a little fun at the same time), and all playing on the idea (what a realization!) that women like to feel pretty.

In today’s post, it’s all about feeling sexy; sexy is self-confidence. And looking beautiful, as you well know , instantly helps in feeling better.  Check out what these online ladies are up to.

Hot shop:

About a Girl – aka At Forty One – has been nominated for “New UK lingerie design 2011” (vote here, if you’d like to help them win). This is a fresh company on the scene and looking for support. I’ll tell you what – their silk bras are gorgeous. I mean, many mastectomy bras offer support and comfort, but these pieces offer style too. From cherry reds, lilac purples and champagne accents, my jaw dropped when I saw Amy’s (the creator) pieces of pretty. “Finally!” I said to myself,  or to the computer screen, depending on how you want to consider the scenario, “something other than beige!”

What also makes About a Girl so wonderfully exciting is that Amy (who has had a mastectomy herself, which was what kick-started her interest in finding better lingerie) actually designs her own bras and – AND – recruits hot bathing suit designers who agree to turn their designer bikinis and full pieces into mastectomy-ready wear (speaking of which, About a Girl has offered a kind 10% off any swimwear purchase made over the next week, so if you want to look pretty (and double breasted) by the pool, stop by and check out her shop. Discount code: BB080611OAS  ).

Being on the internet, About a Girl can ship worldwide – which is why *call out to any 34 AA women near Brighton in the UK* I’ll still keep waiting for their silk bras to be tailored for my small chest, even once arriving in Canada.  If you’re near their shop, At Forty One, and want to lend a hand, they’re looking for a model in that particular size to fit the bra.

Hot cause:

Bras for the Cause – Middle East.

One Wig Stand (who, by the way, oozes with creative bursts of awesome) has teamed up with Fustany to launch this bra design competition in the Middle East. It’s all about awareness, and (hopefully) will have pockets for your falsie of choice.

Good news: the competition is still on if you want to get involved, with voting to take place later this month. It’s a collaboration of designers, fashionistas, and simply anyone with a great idea. How could beautiful bras not result from this competition? (I’m freaking excited to see what get produced from this engaging initiative. What do you get when mixing creative minds with a good cause and a bra template? I don’t know, we’ll see.)

Better news: The bras should be available for international shipping, meaning everyone can look pretty.

I love these sort of things. They build awareness, and improve my wardrobe.  Click here to check this out for yourself.

Hot alternative:

Because sometimes one breast is all you need. Cathie in France has developed a new kind of bra for the beautiful Amazonian women, Souti1. She’s been working hard to make this possible, and the result is a lovely, lacy number that will support your remaining breast (if you had the other one removed). It’s a single cup sensation.  Now, at the moment, her bras are all handmade – so you know the quality is high (which also corresponds to the price). Check it out and see what you think. And keep watching this space, because you never know what may develop in the land of single sided bras.

Cathie was one of the first women I met through the internet. She left a lovely comment on a guest post I’d written, and I was so happy to have her support over the months of recovery and treatment. Even though she’s all the way in Paris – that never hindered her ability to drop a kind word. See, that’s the internet used well.

*

How’s that for a slice of international pie? England, France and the Middle East. And it reflects a worldwide shift in after-surgery lingerie. Mastectomy (bi lateral, lumpectomay, etc) no longer translates into ‘boring, practical, and beige’ (am I harping on the beige too much? Well probably, it is very practical. I just think  if you’re going to offer me a variation between black and white, give me blue, or purple or yellow or – goodness me – pink!). And so, we can feel pretty in our under things as we pose and twirl before our mirrors.

If you know of any more great shops/products/causes that help women feel beautiful within themselves (e.g. look good feel better workshops) please don’t hesitate to let me know.  Here’s a quick list of today’s mentioned sites. Why not treat yourself to some virtual browsing (and maybe some creative thinking for Bras for a Cause)? Can’t hurt, can it?

http://www.aboutthegirl.co.uk/

http://www.fustany.com/brasforacause/index.html

http://www.souti1.com/

I’m no tourist, baby

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Canada, Finding Home, Food, Life, Love, Travel by

Ever since reading that green tea helps fight cancer, I’ve been sucking it back on a daily basis. But, now in Hungary, my Anti Cancer regiment of ass-kicking foods has been challenged, meaning that I had my green tea around 9.30 PM, instead of 9.30 AM today. This explains why Zsolt is in the bed beside me with a pillow over his head, and why I’m still here at the computer clacking away on this large keyboard.

So, that’s the explanation. Not that it helps anything, because I still don’t feel like hitting the bed.

My CAN friend is here and it’s been such a surreal experience – a wonderful experience, of course, but surreal to mix worlds together. In my dreams, worlds are constantly overlapping (Zsolt at my elementary school, my parents at a house party, etc) . . . but in the real world they’re rather well defined. Canada has my family and close (currently visiting) friend. England has my English (and international) friends, Hungary has my other family (Zsols’s family) and my Hungarian friends. These people do not mix and meet. Ever. With three exceptions: my wedding, my BC bullshit, and right now.

Watching Cami (alias suggested by a website called Rum & Monkey, a page forwarded by another, non-visiting, friend from Canada – so Cami is now short for ‘my friend from Canada who is visiting’) mix with Zsolt’s family is so much like my first time in this country. There are the wild gestures, the miscommunication, the repeating “jo” meaning good, and “egan” meaning yes, etc. And seeing this helps me appreciate how far things have come. I’m no longer the guest, I’m the daughter in law. Their conversations do not allude me (not entirely) and I can actually contribute with my barrel scraping knowledge of the language. No one minds when I wash a dish. And most importantly, Hungary isn’t  a place to visit, it’s a place to go home.

So here I am at 11pm, household sleeping all around, typing in my Hungarian bedroom, waiting for the tea to wear away. Thank goodness for this blog. She keeps me company no matter what time of day (or night). And thank goodness for green tea too – despite the buzz, because it’s helping fight a good fight.

But now I’ll post this and get off the computer. Zsolt must be going bonkers with all this clacking at the keyboard. Tea or no tea, it’s time to sleep.

Good night!

Back at the arrival gates

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Life, Travel by

Oh boy, oh boy. Tomorrow a friend is arriving here in Hungary – a Canadian friend. I won’t mention her name because, in general, she’s a stickler for privacy, though at some point I may be forced to assign an alias, because “my good friend from Canada” runs slightly long.

She arriving tomorrow around noon. Zsolt and I will cruise along the highway starting  9 am(ish) in order to meet her on arrival. Something tells me that the 9th of June will involve a lot of ass-flattening a la car seat, again, but at least the reward of seeing “my good friend from Canada” is worthwhile.

Man, I can remember so well the first time I arrived in Hungary nearly six years ago. I’d worn a green hooded sweater, and my Dad’s undershirt (which I thought was a cute top, wearing my Dad’s clothing was a less-than-hip trend I followed all through high school, and then maintained well past university).  The flight from Toronto was about nine hours, and I was totally knackered upon arrival, despite having had the middle four seats of the row to myself. (at this point I remember an instrument, maybe a trumpet . . . I think one of the passengers had a brass instrument with them, but that’s speculation at this point . . . sometimes my memories feel more like dreams than reality. Time deconstructs the facts.)

Anyhow, I arrived and went through customs – all prepared for a difficult line of questioning about where I was going, who I was visiting, why I was in Hungary. Instead they stamped my passport and waved me through – nice. And then, having collected my luggage, I walked through the gate.

That sweet, universal, gate – where someone you love is on the other side waiting, and seeing them is the best thing to happen in that moment.  

And there was Zsolt, looking tall and handsome and lean, with pink tulips in his hand. The guy has the sweetest smile, really. Sometimes I look at him and think, geez – he’s with me? But then again, sometimes I look at photos of myself and think, geez – I look like that?  But I guess Zsolt and I match rather well. My old neighbours spent a good chunk of the acquaintance thinking we were brother and sister. Yowzers. That’s what I call matching a little too much.

My first impression of Hungary: Zsolt.

I wonder what my friend’s impression will be? We’ll try and show her the cream of the cream, and rest in between the efforts. A rough sketch of our plan for her is as follows: Pecs, Balaton, Budapest. That keeps things rather broad, but I’m also thinking: Spa, Lake, Spa to align with each city/village visited.

Right. Time for bed! This morning I work at 6 freaking AM, way too early, with ideas ringing between my ears. So, I’m outtie five thousand. Take care, and good night!

PS – Thank goodness for my little Spanish fan, because I’m so hot flashing right now, it’s ridiculous.