Warning. Ladies underthings are discussed in this here post. Proceed with caution.

Happy and bit concerned that my blog has been around long enough that I’m officially repeating myself. Back in 2010 I posted this family treasure of a recipe for spaghetti sauce. I thought I was clever calling it a blog-on-ese sauce seeing as I write a blog and it is a meat based sauce for pasta after all. Oh yes. It’s a side slapper. Blog-on-ese. HA HA. (pause). Hm. I seem to be the only one laughing. (shrugs and carries on).

Well, today with the howling wind outside and the (in-the-back-of-my-mind) threat of our building cracking and tipping over into the river valley below, along with my moment of drama in a change room earlier in the day, I thought an ambient lit and musical evening sipping on a hoity-toity wine and simmering a hearty meat sauce for supper would be the right thing to do…what? What drama? You didn’t hear?

Friends, today I was out shopping and on a whim thought I would try on a few bras. I am a creature of habit and lean towards those types of bras that are all about comfort, jiggle room and pretty colours. Wires, padding and itchy lace make me think of this sort of contraption:

I would like to point out her arms are in the air simply because she cannot lower them.

Whilst shopping, I pulled a few blouses to try on that are uncharacteristically transparent, frilly and girly for me, and in order to wear them, I would also need to own a bra that is not black, a leopard print, fushia or turquoise. So I wander over to the bra section, and since my favourite type isn’t available in flesh-tone, I pull off a few with under-wires and extra padding.

I am unconcerned, because I’ve been down this road before, and never, not once, had a problem trying on a bra. Well…..

I enter my change room remove boots, shirt, shoes, socks (because standing around nearly nude in socks is silly IMHO), and finally deftly remove my Old Reliable bra. I pick up Wired Flesh Tone, and do the usual thing, put it on backwards, clip it together, spin it around my torso, and put one arm through the strap. The too tight strap…..

At this point, a “normal” person would take the bra off, loosen the arm straps, and start again. Not me. I bend my other arm, pleased I didn’t need to dislocate my shoulder, and insert it the other arm hole. I look in the mirror. I have two bra cups supporting my double chin, and the girls swinging free below. You could, if you listened, hear them sing Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run.

Undeterred at this point, I try to extract myself. My arms are held in place by the straps. I cannot reach around behind me to unsnap as I usually would. My body flails like Harry Houdini extracting himself from a straightjacket. I have to stop. I take a few deep breaths. I try again. No luck.

I try pulling the thing over my head. I can hear ripping sounds, so stop immediately. I sit. I Tweet:

Trapped in a bra in a change room. #takingabreather

— Cathy Walsh (@Walshcooks) January 19, 2014

Clerk knocks at the door, “How’s everything going in there?”. I respond, “I am trying on a pair of slacks, and need another size, can you check and see if you have it for me please?”. She says sure, and wanders away. I sit there and marvel at how I could not admit that I was trapped in one of their bras. She returns happily hanging a new pair of slacks over the door, and leaving saying “Let me know if there is anything else I can help you with”. I say a chipper “I will, thanks!”.

I return to my task. With a great deal of pain and elastic stretching to its maximum, I count to five and just pull the thing over my head. Face red, hair a mess, panting slightly and a little damp, pack up the whole “shopping for clothes” idea and go home.

So here we are. Candles lit. Favourite music playing. Blog-on-ese Sauce 2.0 simmering on the stove, and sharing a delicious 2010 French red.

And the sauce? Well, this particular one is:

1 lb (ish) lean ground beef (Costco purchase, I take the stuff by handfuls and put it in freezer bags, so I have no idea how much I use).
1 onion, finely chopped
2 carrots, finely chopped
2 celery ribs, finely chopped
1 head garlic, roughly chopped
Thyme
Oregano
Basil
Salt and Pepper to taste
1 can D.O.P. tomatoes
Generous glugs of said 2010 French red wine

Simmer until you can’t stand it any longer. Serve over your favourite pasta. Generously grate Parmigiano-Reggiano over top.