The Sweaty Bra; How I Won My Daughter Back

by Marlies Dekkers

I’m not an overly strict mother. I’ve always given my daughter Zilver (now 17) all my trust. I’ve allowed her to learn from her own mistakes, offering her my listening ear and shoulder to cry on when things went wrong. Sex, drugs, rock ‘n roll; nothing is taboo in our household.

Except, perhaps, one thing. My standards are very high, especially when it comes to my own brand. I find cheap, uncomfortable lingerie an affront to womankind! (yes, I just raised my voice).

So what did my daughter do to rebel against me? That’s right, she showed up wearing a cheap, badly made bra. And another one. Just rubbing it in my face. Till I couldn’t take it anymore and blurted out: “Come on, Zilver. Those bras can’t be very comfortable!” There, she had me. With a triumphant smile on her face she answered: “Mom, they’re fine.” End of discussion.

When she was little, she wanted to be like me. Paint her nails, wear make up just like mommie. She even insisted I made her a small version of my (in)famous Blotebillenjurk, aka the Bare Bottom Dress. They say children often come around after a period of rebellion. Well, I couldn’t wait to have my partner in crime back.

Then, one warm summer day, Zilver looked particularly uncomfortable in her high street bra. This was my moment. All I had to do was wait. And yes: “Mom, I admit it; this bra is terrible.” She took it off and threw it on the floor. “It gives me sweaty boobs!” We both started laughing and I examined the culprit.

We use only the highest quality material for our cups so I couldn’t believe what I felt. Just terrible. “Zilver, these cups are so cheaply made, it’s like wearing plastic discs on your boobs. No wonder they get sweaty.” She nodded and we ordered her some of my own bras; the ‘Space Odyssey’ and ‘Dame de Paris’ in bright colours. Perfect bras for rebellious teens. The ‘sweaty boobs’ became an official term at my office to describe bad quality bras. And I marked the date in my agenda: the date my daughter and I became bossom buddies again.

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