I am sick of COVID, too! But it’s not done with us, so keep on masking up and spacing out. Avoid hanging out in groups, despite how badly we all want to. And for the gals, get super comfy in an OOMBRA.
If you had the choice, would you ever go back to the beginning of puberty? Not knowing what you know now – just plain old go back? Me neither. Okay, what if you knew what you know now? Would that make it palatable? Maybe… but probably not. Okay, what if you knew what you know now and I offered you all the money in the world? When I ask this question out loud, most people still say absolutely no. That speaks volumes about just how awkward the awkward years make us feel.
Seven years ago, I watched my own daughter step up to that starting line. Her moods became slightly less predictable and her need to shower slightly more urgent (at least, to the bystander nose). Her face was doing that typical tween thing where her nose was growing but her jaw not quite yet, leaving absolutely no clue as to how she would transform and what would emerge from the rest of that babyface. And then there was her body – her never-tall-for-her-age frame that couldn't have been more than four-and-a-half feet, if that – suddenly busting out in a new dimension. At age ten, regardless of whether she wore a blousy uniform top or a tight tank, there was no denying her impending womanhood.
Virtually every girl I have ever asked shares the same worries: why are new boobs so tender? Why do they look like mini-torpedoes? Why are they different sizes? And why don’t any bras – starter bras, training bras, padded bras, camisole bras – make them less obvious?! Back then, my daughter desperately wanted to wear sports bras and I didn’t blame her, because the tight binding by synthetic fabrics seemed to be the only thing that minimized their awkward shape and intense tenderness. But she was cursed to have a mom who works in the world of puberty, and I knew that neither the tightness nor the opposite-of-natural material was particularly good for her. So, we settled on a middle ground: she could wear sports bras for sports. I swear it was the one time she was genuinely interested in becoming a competitive athlete.
Not long after the debut of the buds, another mom from our school called me to ask where I bought tween bras. We didn’t really know each other at all, so when I told her I don’t, Julie’s blunt reply took me aback. Um, maybe you should… And then she asked me one of the most important questions I would ever get: Can I come by and show you a bra my mom sewed to make sure it’s healthy? Turns out, Julie hadn’t found a decent one either, so she turned to her own mother, the very person who had sewn all of Julie’s childhood clothes down to her underpants.
A couple of days later, Julie brought her daughter and the one “garment” over for a play date. After an hour, the girls decided to be besties based on utility: there were two girls, but only one bra (they disposed of the “garment” title pretty quickly). The bra was traded back and forth, well-washed and well-loved for weeks. What should have been an Ah Ha! moment took us a while, but eventually Julie and I figured out we should start making more of these. At the very least, one more.
Seven years is about the length of time it takes for a girl to get all the way through puberty. Some do it faster, others prolong it, but seven is a typical run from flat to full figure. If you’re thinking that feels like a long stretch – longer than what we experienced – you’re right: for Gen Z, puberty starts earlier than it used to but it doesn’t end any sooner, which means, like taffy, it has proven to be impossibly extensible. Fun for the whole family! And if you’re thinking that the body keeps on changing post-puberty, of course you’re right about that, too.
Seven years, as it turns out, was also just the right amount of time to design, make, test, redesign, remake, retest, patent, source, package, and bring to market a whole new kind of bra. A bra so comfortable, so soft and buttery, that it shouldn’t be able to handle those pesky breast bud torpedos of early tweendom but it does. A bra with no hardware – no clips or clasps or wires – and exactly the right amount of compression to feel supportive without binding. A bra with personality: nude on one side (lots of nude choices for lots of girls), but reversible to a print on the other. A bra that’s so comfy, so versatile, and so freakin’ soft, that as Julie and I watched our girls grow up, we knew we had to keep making bigger sizes because it wasn’t just their first bra, it was their favorite bra. That’s the reason it took me so long to convert puberty knowledge into product… I guess it’s the upside of taking homework assignments really seriously. I will always be grateful to Julie for asking me if I can take a peek and let her know if something was healthy. Now you get to take a peek, too.
To quote my kids: Enough about bras! Today’s links are courtesy of my friend Hilary, who emailed me a couple of weeks ago with the suggestion that one of these days, I dedicate this newsletter to only good news. So enjoy these links… because how can you not?! P.S. there are very few of them today because, well, good news can be hard to find.
And in keeping with the positivity theme, there’s this 6-year old:
